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SYLVIA'S  EXPERIMENT 

THE  STORY  OF  AN  UNRELATED  FAMILY 


Sylvia  jlrden 


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SYLVIA'S 
EXPERIMENT 

THE  STORY  OF  AN  UNRELATED  FAMILY 

BY 
MARGARET   REBECCA   PIPER 

ILLUSTRATED  WITH  A  FRONTISPIECE  IN  FULL  COLOR 
BY 

Z.  P.  NIKOLAKI 

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AE99A 

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THE   PAGE    COMPANY 
BOSTON  %£  MDCCCCXIV 

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Copyright,  1914,  by 
THE  PAGE  COMPANY 

All  rights  reserved 


First  Impression,  August,  1914 
Second  Impression,  September,  1914 
Third  Impression,  November,  1914 


THE   COLONIAL   PRESS 
C.   H.   SIMONDS   CO.,    BOSTON,    U.  8.  A. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

PAGE 

I. 

PLANNING  THE  FAMILY  .... 

I 

II. 

THE  CHRISTMAS  MOTHER 

15 

m. 

THE    GROWTH    OF    THE    CHRISTMAS 

FAMILY   

38 

rv. 

PHIL  APPROVES        

58 

V. 

THE  "  BIG  BROTHER  "    . 

6? 

VL 

THE  HOME-COMING       .... 

82 

VII. 

THE  ABSENT  MEMBER    .... 

98 

VIII. 

A  HAPPY  DAY  

IO7 

IX. 

A  LONESOME  MAN  

122 

X. 

THE  CHRISTMAS  TREE    .... 

138 

XI. 

THE  BELATED  GUESTS    .... 

149 

XII. 

CHRISTMAS  MORNING      .... 

162 

XIII. 

A  CHRISTMAS  ROMANCE 

173 

XIV. 

"  Music  HATH  CHARMS  "... 

184 

XV. 

OLD  MEMORIES        

198 

XVI. 

MR.  MclNTosH  Is  CONVINCED     . 

212 

XVII. 

Two  DECISIONS       

226 

yviTT 

2^6 

y\.  V  J.I.J.. 

XIX. 

NEW  YEAR'S  EVE   

J 
250 

XX. 

THE  CHRISTMAS  FAMILY  ADJOURNS     . 

266 

2137768 


Sylvia' s   Experiment 


CHAPTER    I 

PLANNING    THE   FAMILY 

"  TP\  UT,  Sylvia,"  protested  Bess,  "  if 

"^   you  won't  come  home  with  me 

or  Fran  or  Elinor,  what  will  you 

do?     You  can't  stay  here!     You'd  die!" 

she  added  with  tragic  emphasis. 

Sylvia,  standing  before  the  mirror,  giv- 
ing a  last  deft  poke  to  the  yellow  butter- 
fly bow  perched  on  her  dark  hair,  laughed 
at  the  lugubrious  prophecy. 

"  I  believe  I  could  survive  even  a  Christ- 
mas vacation  at  St.  Anne's,  but  I  don't 
mean  to  risk  it;  so  cheer  up,  honey." 

"  But,  what  will  you  do?  "  repeated  her 


2  Sylvia's  Experiment 

friend  anxiously.  "  You  know,  we  all 
want  you  dreadfully.  Why  won't  you 
come?  Do,  Sylvia  —  that's  a  dear,"  she 
coaxed.  '  You  know  that  mother  sent 
you  a  very  special  invitation  for  the  holi- 
days." 

"  Your  mother  is  a  dear,  and  I  love  her 
for  wanting  me;  but  I  hope  to  be  at  home 
this  year,  myself,  with  mother  and  the 
family." 

Bess  opened  her  round  blue  eyes  to  their 
fullest  capacity,  and  a  frightened  look 
swept  her  chubby  face. 

"  Sylvia,  darling,  are  you  perfectly  well  ? 
I  knew  you  had  been  cramming  too  hard 
on  Math !  "  she  wailed.  "  Let  me  feel  your 
head." 

"Hands  off!"  ordered  Sylvia.  "My 
hair's  done  for  dinner.  Don't  worry,  an- 
gel. I  am  perfectly  sane  and  safe.  Of 
course,  I  am  perfectly  aware  that  I  haven't 


Planning  the  Family  3 

any  mother,  or  any  family;  but  I  have  a 
home  —  or  at  least  a  house  —  and  I  don't 
see  any  reason  why  I  couldn't  acquire  the 
rest  of  the  ingredients  of  a  real  Christmas 
if  I  set  about  it  properly.  It  came  to  me 
in  church  this  morning,  with  a  regular 
jump;  the  way  ideas  come,  you  know." 

"  But  they  don't  come  that  way  to  me," 
sighed  Bess.  "  Go  on,  Sylvia.  What 
came  to  you?  " 

"  The  idea  of  having  a  real  Christmas, 
all  my  own,  like  what  the  rest  of  you  have. 
It  seems  to  me  I  have  just  got  to  have  it, 
this  year."  And  she  dropped  herself  down 
on  the  couch  beside  Bess. 

"  You  can  always  have  a  piece  of  mine," 
and  a  small,  plump  hand  stole  affection- 
ately into  Sylvia's. 

She  was  rewarded  by  one  of  her  friend's 
most  radiant  and  heart-warming  smiles. 

"  I  know  —  you  girls  have  been  so  beau- 


4  Sylvia  s  Experiment 

tifully  generous  with  your  mothers  and 
homes  and  happiness,  ever  since  I  came  to 
America  and  St.  Anne's;  and  I  do  appre- 
ciate it,  truly;  but  this  year  I  want  a 
Christmas  all  my  own!" 

There  was  an  unusually  wistful  tone  in 
her  voice.  Poor  Sylvia,  clearly  destined  to 
be  the  merry  centre  of  a  big,  happy,  riot- 
ous family,  was  absolutely  alone  in  the 
world !  She  was  more  alone  even  than 
usual  this  year,  too,  for  her  guardian  and 
his  wife  were  in  Europe.  Not  that  Sylvia 
minded  that  especially.  She  loathed  the 
hotels  of  winter  or  summer  resorts  which 
her  guardian's  wife  frequented,  and  would 
have  infinitely  preferred  to  spend  her 
Christmas  holidays  at  St.  Anne's,  rather 
than  at  Palm  Beach  or  Jamaica.  But  their 
absence  gave  her  a  new  freedom  and  an 
opportunity  of  which  she  was  bound  she 
would  avail  herself. 


Planning  the  Family  5 

"  But,  Sylvia,"  puzzled  Bess,  "  your 
house  is  perfectly  lovely;  but  there  is  only 
you!  How  can  you  have  a  real  Christ- 
mas?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  can;  but  I  am  go- 
ing to  try.  I  have  simply  set  my  heart  on 
it,  and  you  know  when  I  make  up  my  mind 
to  a  thing  I  usually  do  it,"  and  Sylvia  set 
her  pumps  very  squarely  together  on  the 
rug,  as  if  her  feet  were  already  bent  on  the 
accomplishment  of  her  purpose. 

"  I  know,"  sighed  Bess,  admiringly. 
"  There's  nothing  you  can't  do  if  you 
make  up  your  mind.  But  do,  please, 
explain  a  little.  I'm  dreadfully  mud- 
dled." 

"  It  came  to  me  in  church,  as  I  told  you. 
I  had  just  decided  that  the  sermon  was 
hopelessly  lacking  in  unity,  coherence  and 
emphasis,  and,  therefore,  not  worth  listen- 
ing to,  and  was  letting  my  mind  float,  and 


6  Sylvias  Experiment 

watching  the  little  dust  specks  dancing 
in  the  sunshine,  when  suddenly  I  noticed 
that  the  sunshine  ended  right  on  Mrs. 
Abbott's  little  shabby  bonnet,  and  her 
wonderful  grey  hair,  and  her  sweet  rose- 
bud of  a  face,  and,  all  at  once,  I  knew  that 
she  was  just  what  I  had  been  wanting  for 
a  mother.  So  I  am  going  to  ask  her  if  she 
will  let  me  adopt  her  for  my  Christmas 
mother!" 

"Do  you  know  Mrs.  Abbott?  Do  you 
suppose  she  would  like  to  be  adopted? 
How  are  you  going  to  ask  her?  " 

Bess'  mind  was  built  a  little  too  solidly 
for  such  mental  gymnastics. 

" '  I  have  a  mind  presages  me  such 
thrift '  —  Shakespeare,  darling  —  that  I 
am  almost  positive  she  will  dote  on  being 
adopted  by  me,"  cried  Sylvia,  gaily, 
nothing  daunted  by  her  friend's 
"  buts." 


Planning  the  Family  7 

Bess  did  not  doubt  it.  She  had  a  theory 
that  there  was  no  one  in  the  world  so 
stony  hearted  as  to  refuse  to  accept  any 
suggestion  of  Sylvia's,  made  with  a  smile 
on  her  lips  and  her  "  please  do  "  expres- 
sion in  her  eyes. 

'*  Where  are  you  going  to  get  the  rest 
of  the  family?"  she  asked. 

'  Well/'  said  Sylvia,  resting  her  elbows 
on  her  knees,  and  her  chin  on  her  palms, 
and  surveying  her  friend  seriously,  "  you 
see,  I  have  figured  it  out  that  there  must 
be  lots  of  poor  people  in  the  world  at 
Christmas  time  —  not  money  poor,  for 
they  are  often  among  the  richest;  but 
poor,  like  me,  because  they  are  lonely  and 
longing  for  a  real  Christmas.  If  I  only 
could  get  hold  of  some  of  them,  I  would 
take  them  all  out  to  Arden  Hall  with  me, 
and  we  would  have  a  really,  truly  Christ- 
mas. It  would  be  such  a  perfect  house 


8  Sylvias  Experiment 

for  a  Christmas,"  she  sighed.  '  Why,  it 
was  just  born  for  a  Christmas  house,  just 
as  I  was  born  to  be  one  of  a  big  family. 
Just  think  of  those  great,  big  rooms,  and 
wide  staircases,  and  huge  fireplaces,  and 
the  dance  hall  and  billiard  room,  and  that 
wonderful  old  oak  dining-room.  Oh,  I 
just  ache,  sometimes,  to  see  it  just  brim- 
ming over  with  people  and  laughter  and 
music  and  happiness!  Once  I  thought  I 
would  have  a  house-party  and  ask  all  you 
girls,  and  then  I  knew  it  wouldn't  do,  for 
you  all  have  homes  and  families  and 
Christmases  of  your  own,  and  I  couldn't 
take  you  away,  even  if  I  would.  Besides, 
a  house-party  sounds  just  pleasant  and 
temporary.  I  want  something  different  - 
a  home-party.  So  I  am  going  to  start  a 
Christmas  family  of  my  own  with  Mrs. 
Abbott  for  a  nucleus !  " 

"  How  many  must  you  have?  " 


Planning  the  Family  9 

"  Well,  I  haven't  worked  out  the  details, 
because  the  idea  is  young  yet.  I  haven't  se- 
lected the  individuals;  but  I  think  I  could 
name  the  types.  First  of  all,  there  must 
be  a  baby  —  a  little,  funny,  fat,  tottering 
baby  —  who  will  crow  and  gurgle  and 
suck  his  thumb.  Then  there  ought  to  be 
one  or  two  just  a  little  bigger  —  assorted 
sizes,  you  know  —  big  enough  to  have  the 
Christmas  wonder  in  their  eyes  when  they 
see  the  tree.  There  ought  to  be  a  little 
girl  with  pigtails ;  long,  yellow  ones  —  the 
kind  I  always  coveted.  There's  got  to  be 
a  little  Gretchen  girl  like  that  to  mother 
the  dollies  Santa  brings.  Then  I'd  like  a 
boy  who  will  whistle  and  bang  doors  and 
use  delicious  slang.  I  suppose  /  would 
come  next,  Sister-away-at-school,  and,  oh ! 
so  glad  to  be  home  again!  Then,  Brother. 
He's  away  at  college,  too.  He  —  Oh,  my 
goodness!  Why  didn't  I  think  of  him?" 


10  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"  Who?  "  Bess  was  wide-eyed  with  in- 
terest. In  fact  her  eyes  had  been  growing 
bigger  and  rounder  every  moment  to  suit 
the  increasing  compass  of  the  Christmas 
family. 

"Phil!  I  know  he  would  come.  He 
was  telling  me  only  last  night  that  Christ- 
mas made  him  just  sick,  he  was  so  home- 
sick for  his  mother  and  father.  They  are 
mishing,  somewhere  in  China,  you  know. 
He  was  describing  the  wonderful  times 
they  used  to  have  when  the  whole  family 
was  at  home.  It  made  me  feel  almost 
choky  it  sounded  so  nice  and  homelike.  I 
was  really  glad  for  once  when  the  bell 
rang  for  callers'  exit,  for  fear  I  should 
weep  on  the  sacred  reception-room 
cushions.  But  this  is  a  digression. 
How  big  is  the  family?  I  have  lost 
count." 

"  Fat,  gurgly  Baby,  one,"  Bess  held  up 


Planning  the  Family  11 

a  correspondingly  plump  thumb ;  "  Won- 
der Baby,  two,  or  was  he  twins?  " 

"  No-o,"  relinquished  Sylvia  reluctantly. 
:'  I  reckon  we  had  better  count  him,  or  her 
-  for  I  am  not  particular  as  to  gender  — 
singly  for  the  present,  though  I  should 
really  prefer  twins.  I  fancy  it  is  easier  to 
order  by  the  piece." 

'Wonder  Baby  —  two;  Pig-tails,  three; 
Boy,  four;  you,  five.  —  Wait  till  I  get  my 
other  hand. --Big  Boy,  six." 

'Is  that  all?"  relieved.  "Then  comes 
Big  Brother." 

"Seven.     Married?" 

"  No.  I  don't  want  any  '  in-laws.' 
Eight  is  Sister  —  the  kind  every  one  calls 
Sister  because  —  well,  just  because  she  is 
the  one  everybody  turns  to  in  all  sorts  of 
predicaments  for  help  and  comfort." 

"  She'll  boss  you,"  warned  Bess,  who 
had  experience. 


12  Sylvias  Experiment 

".Perhaps  she  will;  but  she  will  do  it 
so  beautifully  that  we  sha'n't  know  it. 
She  will  be  up  on  scientific  management, 
the  more  scientific  the  less  apparent. 
I  think  that  will  be  enough,  besides 
mother,  who  is  really  the  heart  of  us 
all." 

"  No  father?  "  queried  Bess,  dubiously. 

Sylvia  shook  her  head. 

"Isn't  it  funny?  I  can't  imagine  a 
father.  I  suppose  because  I  don't  know 
anything  about  them  from  personal  expe- 
rience, though,  for  that  matter,  I  haven't 
any  more  experience  of  mothers.  But, 
somehow,  I  have  always  been  able  to  pro- 
ject a  mother.  Of  course,  in  the  present 
instance,  if  a  perfectly  good  father  should 
apply  I  would  admit  him  to  the  family 
circle." 

"  You  need  one,"  Bess  assured  her  sol- 
emnly. "  Only  I  suppose  you  really  ought 


Planning  the  Family  13 

to  consult  Mrs.  Abbott  before  you  pick 
him  out." 

Sylvia  laughed. 

"  You  dear  little  literal  goose,  as  if  that 
mattered!  It's  only  a  play  family." 

"  I  don't  know.  You  remember  what 
we  had  in  Psychology  the  other  day  about 
the  power  of  suggestion?  —  Oh,  there's 
the  dinner-bell.  Sylvia,  dear,  I  do  really 
and  truly  hope  you  will  have  your  Christ- 
mas family,  and  somehow  I  feel  it  in  my 
bones  you  will." 

"  So  do  I,"  smiled  her  friend,  "  and  my 
bones  are  far  more  reliable  than  yours,  for 
I  don't  believe  you  have  any,  you  dear  old 
roly-poly." 

Bess  paused  with  her  hand  on  the  door. 

"  We  forgot  a  grandfather,"  she  ex- 
claimed. 

"  One  must  draw  the  line  somewhere," 
laughed  Sylvia.  "  Never  mind,  Betty. 


14  Sylvia's  Experiment 

We  will  spare  no  expense  to  procure  a 
grandfather,  if  you  say  the  word.  Come 
on;  and  don't  breathe  a  word  to  any- 
body," she  warned,  as  she  flew  down  the 
stairs. 


CHAPTER    II 

THE    CHRISTMAS    MOTHER 

"  ~m       If  RS.   ABBOTT,   this   is    Miss 

\/  I       Sylvia  Arden  of  St.  Anne's. 

I  must  run  away  and  leave 

you,  because  I  am  sure  the  tea  needs  some 

more  water,"  and  kindly  Mrs.  Allen,  the 

pastor's  wife,  went  bustling  on  to  the  next 

duty. 

Sylvia  held  out  her  hand  with  unaf- 
fected pleasure  and  eagerness. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  relieved,"  she  exclaimed, 
happily.  "  I  was  so  afraid  I  wasn't  going 
to  meet  you,  and  I  wanted  to  so  very 
much." 

"Me!"  Mrs.  Abbott  smiled  inquir- 
ingly up  into  the  pretty  young  face  under 
the  quaint  little  velvet  hat  with  nodding 

15 


16  Sylvia's  Experiment 

pink  roses.  '''  It  is  a  long  time,  my  dear, 
since  any  one  has  been  so  anxious  to 
meet  me.  May  I  ask  just  why  you  are?  " 

"  Because  I  want  you  for  my  Christmas 
mother,"  blurted  Sylvia,  her  beautiful  and 
graceful  speech,  which  was  to  lead  up  to 
the  proposition,  basely  deserting  her,  in 
spite  of  its  frequent  rehearsals,  now  that 
the  crucial  moment  had  come. 

"  Bless  me,  dear  child,  and  what  is  a 
Christmas  mother?  It  sounds  very  nice; 
but  what  does  she  have  to  do?  And  could 
I  really  be  it?" 

"  I  hope  so.  I  mean  I  hope  you  will 
want  to  be.  I  know  you  can.  Do  you 
mind  coming  over  to  the  window-seat, 
away  from  people,  and  let  me  tell  you  all 
about  it?" 

"  So  far  from  minding,  I'd  simply  love 
to,"  smiled  the  Christmas  mother  nom- 
inee. 


The  Christmas  Mother  17 

When  they  reached  the  window-seat, 
which  offered  a  haven  of  refuge  from  the 
babel  of  voices  and  protruding  elbows,  not 
to  mention  precarious  tea-cups  and  treach- 
erous frappe  glasses,  they  sat  down  very 
close  together  and  Mrs.  Abbott,  slipping 
off  her  glove,  patted  the  girl's  hand  reas- 
suringly. "  Now,"  said  she,  "  tell  me  all 
about  it." 

And  by  the  time  the  next  half  hour  was 
over  it  was  not  the  fault  of  Sylvia's  tongue 
if  Mrs.  Abbott  did  not  know  "  all  about 
it."  She  knew  how  the  baby  Sylvia  had 
been  left  an  orphan  years  ago  by  a  terrible 
railroad  accident;  how  an  aunt,  the  only 
living  relative,  had  crossed  the  seas  at 
once  and  taken  the  little  girl  back  to  Paris 
with  her,  where  she  had  lived  until  five 
years  ago,  when  the  beloved  aunt  had  also 
died  and  Sylvia  had  returned  in  the  care 
of  her  guardian,  a  cousin  of  her  mother's, 


18  Sylvia's  Experiment 

to  America.  She  heard  of  those  five  years 
of  Sylvia's  school-days  at  St.  Anne's, 
"learning  to  be  American;"  of  those  va- 
cations spent  with  generous  and  affection- 
ate school  friends,  or,  horror  of  horrors, 
with  her  guardian's  wife  in  ghastly,  luxu- 
rious hotels.  She  learned  of  the  beautiful 
old  mansion  which  was  Sylvia's,  though 
she  had  never  lived  in  it  since  babyhood; 
but  which  she  still  insisted  on  calling 
"  home,"  for,  in  the  magic  eyes  with  which 
the  girl  saw  the  old  house,  it  was  not 
empty  nor  cheerless;  but  full  of  human 
life  and  stir,  and  human  love  and  laughter. 
In  her  eyes  it  was  as  it  should  have  been, 
and  what  she  longed  to  make  it  for  a  little 
space,  —  a  home.  And  it  was  to  this  home 
that  she  was  bidding  her  chief  guest,  the 
Christmas  mother. 

"  It  isn't  impossible,  nor  altogether  fool- 
ish, to  want  it,  is  it?"  she  begged  at  the 


The  Christmas  Mother  19 

end  of  her  rambling  and  rather  incoherent 
discourse. 

''  It  is  a  beautiful  idea,  little  friend;  so 
beautiful  that  I  almost  tremble  for  it  in 
this  humdrum  world.  I  don't  wonder  they 
named  you  Sylvia,  Sylvia  Arden.  Surely 
you  were  meant  for  an  ideal  As  You  Like 
It  world." 

"  Oh,  but  you  must  not  think  I  am  un- 
practical," objected  Sylvia.  "  It  is  really 
because  I  am  so  intensely  practical  that 
the  thing  seems  so  plausible  and  possible." 

Mrs.  Abbott  smiled,  and  wisely  did  not 
respond  to  this  argument,  though  she  did 
venture  to  ask  a  practical  question. 

"  How  shall  you  get  the  family  to- 
gether?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  yet  —  those  things 
always  happen,  don't  you  think?"  in- 
quired the  intensely  practical  person 
cheerfully.  "  You  see,  Christmas  is  over 


20  Sylvias  Experiment 

two  weeks  off,  and  surely  that  is  plenty 
of  time.  Besides,  I  have  one  or  two  people 
in  mind,  already,  and  I  am  sure  everything 
will  come  out  all  right  if  you  will  only 
promise  to  be  the  Christmas  mother." 
And  Sylvia's  brown  eyes  begged  elo- 
quently. 

"  There's  nothing  in  all  the  world  I 
would  rather  do;  but  —  " 

"Oh,  goody!  Then  there  can't  be  any 
'buts!'  Oh,  I  am  so  happy."  And  she 
looked,  indeed,  as  if  she  wanted  to  get  up 
and  execute  a  pas  seul  in  spite  of  encum- 
bering tea-cups  and  watchful  eyes  of 
chaperones. 

"  Dear  child,  there  are,  alas,  terrible,  in- 
surmountable *  buts  '  in  this  world.  My 
chief  '  but '  is  Mr.  Angus  Ross  Mcln- 
tosh." 

"Mr.  Angus  Ross  Mclntosh!  The 
owner  of  the  Mclntosh  Mills?"  incredu- 


The  Christmas  Mother  21 

lously.  Sylvia  did  not  see  how  he  could 
be  a  "  but." 

"  The  same.  You  see,  he  boards  with 
me,  has  done  so  for  years,  and  I  don't 
know  what  he  would  say  if  I  were  to  close 
the  house  and  run  away  Christmasing." 

"  But  he  could  go  to  a  hotel." 

"He  could;  but  would  he?" 

"  I  don't  see  why  not.  What  will  the 
rest  of  them  do  ?  Is  he  the  only  boarder  ?  " 

'  The  rest  are  teachers  or  students  who 
will  be  away,  anyway,  for  the  holidays, 
with  families  or  friends." 

"  Well,  hasn't  he  any  family  or 
friends?" 

"  He  has  no  family  and  — "  she  hesi- 
tated, with  a  faint  twinkle  in  her  eyes  — 
"  no  Christmas  friends." 

"  He  ought  to  be  ashamed,"  said  Sylvia; 
then,  resignedly,  "  I  suppose  we  will  have 
to  ask  him,  then." 


22  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"Ask  him?"  puzzled  Mrs.  Abbott. 

'  To  join  the  family.  He  might  do  for 
the  grandfather  Bess  insisted  upon." 

"  My  dear!"  gasped  her  new  friend. 
'  He  would  never  consent  in  the  world." 

"  Then  let  him  go  to  a  hotel!  " 

"  He  detests  hotels,  and  you  know, 
yourself,  how  lonely  they  are  at  holiday 
time." 

Sylvia  softened,  admitting  the  point. 

'  Then  I  surely  shall  ask  him,"  she  said 
firmly.  "  Perhaps  he  would  really  like  to 
be  part  of  a  Christmas  family." 

Mrs.  Abbott  had  her  doubts  as  to  this; 
but  held  her  peace.  After  all,  why  not  let 
this  very  determined  young  person  go  her 
way?  She  suspected  that  it  would  be 
Greek  meeting  Greek  so  far  as  determi- 
nation went. 

"  Anyway,  he  must  not  be  allowed  to 
spoil  the  Christmas  family,"  went  on 


The  Christmas  Mother  23 

Sylvia.      "  The    idea    of   your    staying   at 
home    just    to    oblige    a    pernickety    old 


man." 


"My  dear!  My  dear!  He  has  been  very 
kind  to  me  in  many  ways,  and  I  shouldn't 
like  to  inconvenience  him.  He  has  grown 
to  depend  on  me,  and  he  won't  like  to 
change." 

"  A  change  is  always  beneficial,"  an- 
nounced Sylvia,  oracularly;  but  with  a 
little  twinkle  in  her  eyes  to  which  Mrs. 
Abbott's  responded.  "  Dear  Mrs.  Abbott, 
if  I  can  get  around  Mr.  Angus  Ross  Mcln- 
tosh  will  you  come  and  be  my  Christmas 
mother?" 

"  With  all  my  heart,  little  Christmas 
daughter." 

"  Thank  you  a  thousand  times.  Miss 
Morris  is  looking  exclamation  points  and 
interrogation  marks  at  me,  which  means 
it  is  time  to  leave.  Good-by,  you  best 


24  Sylvia's  Experiment 

little  Christmas  mother.  Let  us  hope,  and 
hope,  and  hope! " 

"  It  is  perfectly  impossible,"  thought 
Mrs.  Abbott,  as  she  watched  the  velvet  hat 
and  nodding  roses  cross  the  room  to  the 
waiting  chaperone.  "  Perfectly  impossi- 
ble! I  suppose  I  ought  to  have  discour- 
aged her;  but,  somehow,  I  couldn't.  I  do 
believe,  you  foolish  old  lady,  you  are  ac- 
tually hoping  it  may  come  true!  I  won- 
der what  Mr.  Mclntosh  would  say  if  she 
should  ask  him."  The  twinkle  came  back 
into  her  eyes.  "  As  Sylvia  says,"  she 
added  to  herself  amusedly,  "  a  change  is 
sometimes  beneficial." 

But,  when  she  broached  the  suggestion 
to  the  aforementioned  gentleman,  the  fol- 
lowing evening,  after  she  had  given  him 
a  particularly  appetizing  and  favorite  din- 
ner, he  frowned  heavily,  notwithstanding 
the  favorable  preparation. 


The  Christmas  Mother  25 

"  Perfectly  ridiculous ! "  he  fumed. 
"  You  can't  run  a  boarding-house  and  go 
on  a  vacation  every  other  week.  It's  not 
business! " 

Mrs.  Abbott  forebore  to  retort  that,  so 
far  from  taking  a  vacation  every  other 
week,  her  holidays  were  so  far  back  in  the 
past  that  they  were  scarcely  to  be  remem- 
bered, save  for  an  occasional  cheerless 
leave  of  absence  on  account  of  the  illness 
or  death  of  relatives.  Even  these  lugubri- 
ous holidays  were  long  since  ended,  for  no 
relative  remained  to  make  demand  upon 
her  heart,  hand  or  purse.  She  said  noth- 
ing, however.  Long  ago,  she  had  seen 
the  futility  of  argument  with  her  chief 
boarder. 

"  It  is  perfect  nonsense,"  he  raged  on, 
"  your  going  away  for  two  weeks !  How 
should  I  get  along,  I'd  like  to  know? 
Women  are  so  flighty,  nowadays.  Never 


26  Sylvias  Experiment 

content  if  they  are  not  gadding  some- 
where! I  was  saying  to  Professor  Lane 
only  to-day  —  By  the  way,  he  says  he 
used  to  know  you,"  he  interrupted  him- 
self. 

Mrs.  Abbott  smiled  a  queer  little  enig- 
matical smile  which  might  mean  a  good 
deal  or  nothing. 

"Does  he?"  she  inquired.  "I  fancied 
he  had  forgotten  that,  long  ago." 

"  Apparently  not.  Not  that  he  is  a 
ladies'  man,"  he  added  quickly.  "  I  was 
congratulating  him  only  to-day  on  his 
good  sense  in  remaining  single.  He  never 
would  have  been  where  he  is  to-day  —  at 
the  top  of  his  profession  —  if  he  had  gone 
and  married.  I  told  him  so." 

Mrs.  Abbott  nipped  off  a  browning  leaf 
from  the  fern  in  the  centre  of  the  table. 

"  I  suppose  he  agreed  with  you,"  she 
observed  gently. 


The  Christmas  Mother  27 

"  No,"  admitted  Mr.  Mclntosh,  "  he 
differed  with  me.  Obstinate  chap,  Lane; 
always  on  the  other  side  of  the  fence." 

Had  Mrs.  Abbott  been  less  wise  she 
might  have  suggested  that  what  consti- 
tutes the  other  side  of  the  fence  is  merely 
a  matter  of  point  of  view;  but,  being  wise, 
she  said  nothing,  and  the  gentleman  rose 
from  the  table  with  the  pleasant  feeling  of 
having  been  very  affable  and  genial  in 
thus  lingering  after  the  meal  to  chat  with 
his  landlady.  He  prided  himself  on  his 
ability  to  recognize  the  equality  of  her 
inner  station  with  his  own,  however  di- 
verse their  external  positions.  As  he  went 
up-stairs  to  his  comfortable  rooms  he  re- 
flected with  considerable  relief  that  he  had 
been  able  to  switch  the  good  lady  off 
that  fool  notion  that  she  would  like  to  go 
away  for  a  holiday.  He  would  make  up 
to  her  by  a  substantial  check  which  really 


28  Sylvias  Experiment 

would  be  much  better  for  her.  Women 
never  knew  when  they  were  well  off. 
The  phrase  sounded  familiar,  somehow, 
and  he  recalled  that  he  had  told  Bob  Lane 
the  same  thing,  to-day,  apropos  of  that 
gentleman's  very  unexpected  refusal  to  ac- 
cept congratulations  on  his  single  blessed- 
ness. 

"  I  tell  you  it  is  at  Christmas  time," 
Lane  had  told  him  soberly,  "  that  a  man 
realizes  how  alone  he  is !  " 

Alone!  Well,  why  not?  There  were 
worse  things  than  being  alone.  He,  him- 
self, was  more  comfortable  than  any  mar- 
ried man  of  his  acquaintance.  Mr.  Mcln- 
tosh  did  not  at  all  realize  that  his  comfort 
was  almost  wholly  due  to  the  little  lady 
down-stairs,  to  whom  he  had  just  practi- 
cally forbidden  a  vacation.  Or  was  it  that 
he  did  realize  it  in  a  measure  —  just 
enough  to  make  him  veer  off  indignantly 


The  Christmas  Mother  29 

from  the  idea  of  missing  her  ministrations 
for  even  a  fortnight? 

He  turned  to  his  desk  to  see  if  the  post- 
man had  left  any  mail  —  a  rare  occurrence, 
by  the  way,  as  the  owner  of  the  Mclntosh 
Mills  usually  received  all  communications 
at  the  office,  being  without  family  or 
friends,  and  openly  proud  of  his  immunity 
from  such  claims. 

There  was  to-night,  however,  a  letter,  a 
square,  grey  envelope  addressed  to  him  in 
a  large,  clear,  youthful  hand.  He  tore  it 
open  and  his  brows  contracted  in  a  puz- 
zled frown  as  he  read.  It  certainly  was  a 
surprising  communication.  No  wonder 
he  frowned.  It  ran  as  follows: 

"My  DEAR  MR.  MclNTOsn: 

"  I  hope  you  will  forgive  my  writing  to 
you,  when  I  don't  know  you,  and  you 
don't  know  me.  I  am  sure  we  would  each 


30  Sylvia's  Experiment 

be  glad  to  know  the  other,  so  it  really 
doesn't  matter,  does  it?  Besides,  you  will 
see  how  very  important  my  reason  for 
writing  you  is,  when  you  understand  all 
about  it. 

"  For  a  long  time  I  have  been  thinking 
of  lonely  people,  like  you  and  me,  and 
wishing  there  were  some  way  to  get  some 
of  us  together  so  there  would  be  a  few  of 
us,  at  least,  a  little  less  lonely  this  Christ- 
mas. And  so  I  have  decided  to  collect  a 
Christmas  family. 

"  Of  course  you  will  see  that,  when  I 
thought  about  the  Christmas  mother,  I 
just  naturally  couldn't  help  thinking  of 
dear  Mrs.  Abbott.  She  is  just  born  for  a 
Christmas  mother.  I  spoke  to  her  about 
it,  and  she  said  she  did  not  like  to  leave 
you  alone.  And  so,  Mr.  Mclntosh,  won't 
you  make  everything  all  right  by  coming, 
too?  We  should  all  be  so  glad  to  have 


The  Christmas  Mother  31 

you,  for  I  know  you  must  hate  hotels.  I 
do,  myself,  dreadfully,  and  they  are  worse 
than  usual  at  Christmas,  so  I  specially 
would  like  you  to  come  and  be  one  of  the 
Christmas  family,  for  it  would  make  me 
feel  very  sad  to  think  of  you  at  a  hotel 
while  the  rest  of  us  were  so  happy.  And 
you  will  persuade  Mrs.  Abbott  to  come, 
won't  you?  I  need  her  so  very  much,  and 
I  am  sure  we  could  make  her  happy,  don't 
you  think  we  could?  I  should  have  said, 
before,  that  my  house  is  out  in  Greendale, 
and  you  could  very  easily  motor  in  any 
day  you  simply  had  to  be  at  the  mills;  but 
I  hope  you  will  plan  to  stay  most  of  the 
time  with  us  at  Arden  Hall.  You  must 
need  a  vacation,  too. 

'  You  will  come,  won't  you,  dear  Mr. 
Mclntosh?  Please  write  me  right  away 
that  you  will,  so  I  can  ask  the  rest  of  the 
Christmas  family.  I  did  not  like  to  do 


32  Sylvia's  Experiment 

anything  until  I  was  sure  of  my  Christ- 
mas mother,  who  will  make  all  the  differ- 
ence in  the  world.  If  there  is  anybody 
you  think  of  you  would  like  to  ask,  please 
do,  for  the  more  of  us  there  are  the  better 
—  only  it  must  be  a  lonely  person,  please. 
If  you  would  like  to  talk  it  over  with  me 
I  should  be  very  glad  to  have  you  call  at 
St.  Anne's. 

'  Very  sincerely  yours, 

"  SYLVIA  ARDEN." 

"  Well,  upon  my  word!  "  snorted  "  dear 
Mr.  Mclntosh"  vehemently.  "Of  all 
cheeky  propositions  I  ever  ran  up  against 
in  my  life,  this  is  the  cheekiest'!  " 

His  shoulders  began  to  heave  a  little 
and,  almost  before  he  knew  it,  his  whole, 
big,  Scotch  frame  was  convulsed  with 
mirth.  The  very  cheekiness  of  the  propo- 
sition struck  his  sense  of  humor.  A  very 


The  Christmas  Mother  33 

extraordinary  letter,  indeed!  Most  ex- 
traordinary! He  —  Angus  Ross  Mcln- 
tosh  —  was  being  invited  to  a  Christmas 
house-party  like  any  young  galoot  of  the 
college.  How  Bob  would  chuckle  if  he 
knew!  Moreover,  he  was  invited,  not  in 
the  person  of  Angus  Ross  Mclntosh;  but 
as  a  sort  of  appendage  to  his  landlady, 
who  was,  it  appeared,  a  sine  qua  non  of 
a  Christmas  family!  He  was  to  persuade 
her  to  come!  Persuade!  The  big  shoul- 
ders began  to  heave  again  at  the  thought. 
And  he  was  to  join  in  the  process  of  ma- 
king happy  the  lady  who  was  "  just 
born"  for  a  Christmas  mother!  Christ- 
mas mother,  indeed!  Who  ever  heard  of 
such  an  absurd  phrase? 

Suddenly  the  old  man's  gaze  fell  on  a 
picture  on  the  wall  over  the  desk,  a  pic- 
ture of  a  big,  plain  woman  with  kind,  tired 
eyes.  All  unexpectedly  he  was  trans- 


34  Sylvia's  Experiment 

ported  into  the  past,  and  recalled  how  the 
big,  plain  woman  with  kind,  tired  eyes  had 
made  the  most  of  a  slender  purse  in  those 
bygone  Christmases,  going  without  even 
necessities  for  herself,  that  the  bairns 
might  not  find  empty  stockings.  He  had 
not  understood  then,  when  he  was  just  one 
of  the  bairns  himself.  It  was  only  later, 
when  the  kind,  tired  eyes  had  long  been 
closed,  that  he  had  realized  how  much 
love  and  sacrifice  had  gone  into  those  far- 
away Christmas  days.  For  a  moment  his 
own  eyes  blurred  a  little,  and  the  words 
"  Christmas  mother  "  took  on  new  signifi- 
cance. He  blew  his  nose  violently,  and 
went  back  to  the  letter,  picking  out  new 
phrases  this  time.  "  Lonely  people  like 
you  and  me  "  —  "a  Christmas  family  "  — 
"  a  lonely  person,  please."  Well,  it  was 
lonely.  Come  to  think  of  it,  Lane  had 
been  right  about  that!  The  child  was 


The  Christmas  Mother  35 

right.  He  was  lonely  —  even  he  —  An- 
gus Ross  Mclntosh.  He  found  himself 
speculating  as  to  what  it  would  be  like  to 
be  one  of  a  Christmas  family.  Well,  ap- 
parently he  was  having  a  chance  offered 
to  find  out  for  himself.  A  grim  smile 
crossed  his  face  as  he  played  with  the  idea 
a  moment  before  rejecting  it  for  the  pre- 
posterous nonsense  that  it  was.  At  any 
rate  he  had  not  the  heart  to  spoil  the 
child's  pleasure  by  denying  her  her 
"  Christmas  mother."  He  supposed  he 
could  get  along  somehow.  He  could  go  to 
a  hotel.  Bah!  The  frown  returned  in  in- 
creased proportions  as  he  reflected  how  he 
abominated  hotels.  She  hated  them,  too, 
it  seemed,  this  strange  young  person.  He 
was  not  surprised  at  that,  however.  She 
was  evidently  a  girl  of  sense.  Anybody 
with  brains  enough  to  think  up  a  Christ- 
mas family,  and  audacity  enough  to  ask 


36  Sylvia's  Experiment 

him   to   join    it,    would    naturally    loathe 
hotels! 

Once  more  he  picked  up  the  letter. 
Greendale!  Arden  Hall!  Sylvia  Arden! 
Why,  this  must  be  Jack  Arden's  daughter 
and,  by  the  same  token,  Eleanor  Arden's 
niece!  Years  ago,  Angus  Mclntosh  had 
been  a  penniless  young  clerk  in  the  office 
of  Arden  and  Daly,  and  he  had  never  for- 
gotten how  Miss  Eleanor  had  been  wont 
to  flit  into  the  gloomy  office  now  and  then, 
bringing  sunshine  with  her.  Her  bright 
young  beauty  was  one  of  the  things  that 
time  and  money-getting  had  never  quite 
eradicated  from  his  consciousness.  He 
found  himself  wondering  if  Sylvia  were 
all  radiance  and  charm  and  life  as  the 
other  had  been.  Where  was  Eleanor,  any- 
way? Why  was  she  not  making  a  home 
for  this  child  somewhere?  Probably  she 
was  dead.  He  sighed  ponderously.  He 


The  Christmas  Mother  37 

had  not  thought  that  a  bright  young  thing 
like  Eleanor  Arden  could  die.  For  a  mo- 
ment he  forgot  that  the  young  clerk  was 
close  on  to  five  and  sixty,  and  that  the 
thirty  years,  which  lay  between,  might 
have  robbed  even  Eleanor  Arden  of  youth 
and  brightness,  as  well  as  life  itself.  He 
sighed  again,  and,  the  furrowed  brow 
resting  on  his  hand,  he  fell  into  a  revery. 


CHAPTER    III 

THE    GROWTH   OF   THE    CHRISTMAS   FAMILY 

"  TH\  ESS,  oh,  Bess,  your  faith  must 
"^  have  moved  the  mountain  — 
even  Angus  Ross  Mclntosh. 
Oh,  isn't  it  just  too  splendiferous?  Lis- 
ten!" 

"Did  he  write  to  you?"  gasped  Bess, 
staring  at  the  stiff  angular  writing  on  the 
paper  Sylvia  flapped  before  her  gaze,  as 
if  it  held  some  cryptic  cipher. 

"  He  did,  indeed  —  a  perfectly  lovely 
letter,  too.  I  am  awfully  ashamed  for  im- 
agining he  was  an  old  crank.  He  is  a 
dear.  But,  Bess,  do  listen!" 

" '  MY  DEAR  Miss  SYLVIA  ARDEN: 

" '  Your  communication  at  hand  and 
contents  noted.  It  gives  me  great  pleas- 


Growth  of  the  Christmas  Family     39 

ure  to  accept  your  very  kind  and  thought- 
ful invitation  to  become  a  member  of  your 
Christmas  family.  I  assure  you  I  did  not 
know  I  was  so  forlorn  until  I  read  your 
letter;  but  I  am  so  convinced  of  it,  now, 
that  nothing  would  keep  me  away  from 
your  family  party.  I  shall,  therefore,  do 
my  best  to  demean  myself  as  befits  the 
patriarch  of  the  flock.  At  least,  I  assume, 
that  I  am  to  occupy  that  post,  and  sin- 
cerely hope  that  no  individual,  with  fewer 
sprigs  of  hair  on  his  shining  pate,  will  be 
considered  eligible  for  membership.  I  feel 
duly  honored  at  being  invited,  in  company 
with  my  esteemed  friend,  Mrs.  Abbott, 
and  will  endeavor  to  pivot  around  her  and 
—  may  I  add  yourself?  —  as  merrily  and 
heartily  as  my  rheumatism  permits.  I 
have  an  impression  that  I  was  once  so  for- 
tunate as  to  know  your  father  and  your 
aunt,  Miss  Eleanor  Arden —  an  impres- 


40  Sylvia's  Experiment 

sion  which  strengthens  my  natural  desire 
to  see  the  author  of  so  unique  an  idea  as 
that  of  a  Christmas  family,  which  is,  I  am 
convinced,  an  entirely  new  article  on  the 
market,  and  destined  to  prove  an  immedi- 
ate and  permanent  success. 

"  '  Wishing  it  and  its  inventor  all  hap- 
piness and  prosperity, 

"  '  I  am, 

"  '  Your  obedient  servant, 

" '  ANGUS  Ross  MC!NTOSH.' 

"  There,  isn't  that  a  delightful  letter, 
Bess?  And  isn't  he  a  heavenly  mixture  of 
old-time  courtesy  and  dry  humor  and 
business  up-to-dateness?  And  he  knew 
Aunt  Nell !  Just  think,  my  own  best  Aunt 
Nell!" 

"  And  your  father,"  put  in  Bess. 

"  Oh,  yes,  that,  too.  But  Aunt  Nell  was 
mine.  I  really  knew  her.  She  isn't  just 


Growth  of  the  Christmas  Family     41 

a   shadow.      She   was   real,    and   I   loved 

her." 

"Did  you  get  another  letter?" 

"  Yes,  but  I  haven't  opened  it.    I  flew  to 

show  you  Grandpa's.    Oh,  it  is  from  Mrs. 

Abbott!" 

And  with  heads  close  together  the  two 

girls  read  the  second  letter. 

"Mr  DEAREST  CHRISTMAS  DAUGHTER: 
"Are  you  really  a  fairy  godmother?  I 
begin  to  suspect  it.  Had  any  one  told  me 
that  Mr.  Mclntosh  would  not  only  con- 
sent to  my  coming  to  you,  but  would  him- 
self accept  the  invitation,  I  should  have 
told  them  that  the  former  was  wildly  im- 
probable, and  the  latter  a  perfect  impossi- 
bility; and  yet,  thanks  to  your  witcheries, 
both  are  coming  true!  What  did  you  do 
to  him?  Once  in  a  while  I  must  confess 
to  an  unworthy  suspicion  that  it  was  his 


42  Sylvia's  Experiment 

dread  of  hotels,  his  horror  of  bad  coffee, 
his  detestation  of  abbreviated  sheets  that 
conquered;  but  that  cannot  be.  No  such 
weak  surrender  would  have  brought  that 
twinkle  he  has  been  carrying  about  all 
day.  Besides,  he  knew  my  weakness  - 
that  I  would  never  have  left  him  to  the 
mercies  of  a  soulless  hotel,  against  his 
will.  No,  dear  little  Christmas  fairy,  it 
was  you  who  won !  How,  I  do  not  profess 
to  understand;  and,  yet,  perhaps,  I  do 
understand,  after  all!  It  was  the  same 
secret  which  won  me,  too  —  the  brim- 
ming-over  enthusiasm  and  generosity  and 
Christmas  spirit  of  a  certain  damsel  who 
shall  be  nameless.  Fairy  godmother, 
Christmas  daughter,  or  benignant  spirit 
of  her  own  forest  of  As  You  Like  It,  you 
best  know  who  and  what  she  is.  I  only 
know  she  is  a  wonder  worker.  I  found 
myself  singing  a  foolish  little  song  to-day 


Growth  of  the  Christmas  Family     43 

-  a  thing  I  haven't  done  in  years  —  and 
the  old  happy  feeling  of  '  something  nice 
is  going  to  happen  '  is  strong  within  me. 
God  bless  you,  little  Christmas  daughter, 
and  return  to  you  a  hundredfold  the  hap- 
piness you  plan  for  others. 

"  Your  Christmas  mother, 

"MARY  ABBOTT." 

:'  Isn't  it  beautiful,"  sighed  Sylvia, 
while  Bess  wiped  a  tear  off  her  nose. 
:<  But,  Bess,  she  mustn't  think  it  is  because 
I  am  good  or  generous  or  anything  that 
I  want  my  Christmas  family.  It  is  really 
just  pure  selfishness." 

Bess  surveyed  her  friend  with  one  of 
those  adoring  looks  which  forbade  speech. 
Then  she  laughed  a  little. 

"  Sylvia,  you  are  funny,"  she  said.  "  I 
don't  believe  you  know  it." 

"  Find    the    missing    antecedent.      Oh, 


44  Sylvia's  Experiment 

Bess,  did  Miss  Leonard  say  if  I  was  to  go 
with  her  to  choose  the  place-cards  for  the 
Chronicle  banquet  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  almost  forgot.  You  are  to  go 
with  her  at  three  to  see  the  woman  who 
does  those  ducky  ones  —  way  over  on  Jef- 
ferson Avenue.  Keep  your  eye  out.  Per- 
haps you  will  see  some  more  of  '  the 
family. '  " 

"  Perhaps,"  laughed  her  friend.  "  It  is 
me  for  Geometry  now  if  I  am  to  go  out 
again  at  three.  Unprecedented  dissipa- 
tion!" 

An  hour  later,  Sylvia  and  Miss  Leonard, 
the  faculty  member  of  the  board  of  editors 
of  the  St.  Anne  Chronicle,  were  deposited 
by  the  elevator  boy  on  the  topmost  floor 
of  a  tall  apartment  house  in  a  distant  sec- 
tion of  the  city.  In  response  to  Miss 
Leonard's  ring  the  door  of  the  apartment 
opened  a  little,  cautiously,  and  on  the 


Growth  of  the  Christmas  Family     45 

threshold  stood  a  wee,  golden-haired  fairy 
with  great  serious  forget-me-not  eyes, 
clad  in  the  daintiest  of  embroidered  blue 
linen. 

"  Muvver's  out,"  she  announced,  then, 
apparently  remembering  her  manners,  she 
dropped  a  funny  little,  bobbing  curtsey 
and  appended  "How  do?"  to  her  first 
speech. 

"A  regular  Wonder  Baby,"  thought 
Sylvia,  obsessed  by  her  Christmas  family, 
"  I  wish  I  could  have  her!  "  she  coveted. 

"  Muvver  went  to  fix  a  lady's  head.  It 
ached.  She  will  be  back  quick,  I  fink," 
volunteered  the  Wonder  Baby,  on  being 
pressed  by  Miss  Leonard. 

"  We  may  as  well  wait,"  said  the  latter 
to  Sylvia.  "  Mrs.  Emory  cannot  be  far 
off.  She  would  never  leave  such  a  baby 
alone." 

"  Baby's  in  crib,"  announced  the  little 


46  Sylvia's  Experiment 

maid  with  dignity,  evidently  resenting 
such  confusion  of  identities. 

"  I  am  Mawianna,"  she  explained. 

"  Marianna !  What  a  lovely  name !  " 
cried  Sylvia. 

The  forget-me-not  eyes  surveyed  her 
gravely.  Every  moment  made  Sylvia 
long  more  and  more  to  possess  her  for 
the  Christmas  family.  She  was  adorable. 

"  Come  and  sit  in  my  lap,  Marianna," 
she  coaxed.  "  I'll  tell  you  a  beautiful 
story." 

"  Faiwy  stowy  ?  "  bargained  Goldilocks. 

"  Of  course  —  a  perfectly  lovely  fairy 
story,"  agreed  Sylvia. 

She  held  out  her  hands  enticingly  and 
smiled.  The  smile  ."  made  a  magic  "  as 
usual,  and  Marianna  climbed  contentedly 
into  her  new  friend's  lap  with  a  little 
snuggle  of  content. 

Miss  Leonard  consulted  her  watch. 


Growth  of  the  Christmas  Family     47 

"  Sylvia,"  she  said,  "  I  believe  I  will 
leave  you  here  to  wait  for  Mrs.  Emory, 
while  I  go  out  and  see  to  the  catering  my- 
self. I  will  come  back  here  for  you.  You 
don't  mind  being  left,  do  you?" 

Naturally  Sylvia  did  not  mind,  being  an 
independent  young  person  who  regarded 
chaperonage  as  a  perfectly  unnecessary,  if 
harmless,  decree  of  destiny.  She  foresaw 
a  very  pleasant  interview  with  Marianna, 
for  she  doted  on  babies.  So  Miss  Leonard 
departed,  and  the  "  perfectly  lovely " 
story  began  to  spin  itself  out  of  Sylvia's 
ready  imagination.  The  Wonder  Baby's 
eyes  began  to  grow  bigger  and  bluer,  and 
more  filled  with  wonder,  with  every  word, 
as  she  sat  and  listened  to  the  tale  of  Prince 
Thimbleberry  and  the  magic  rose-leaf. 
Just  at  that  crucial  point  when  Prince 
Thimbleberry  found  that  the  wicked 
knight,  Sir  Hornet,  had  stolen  the  magic 


48  Sylvia's  Experiment 

rose-leaf,  the  door  opened  and  a  tall  lady 
in  black,  with  hair  as  gold  and  eyes  as 
blue  as  Marianna's  own,  entered. 

Marianna  gave  a  little,  cooing  cry,  and 
slid  out  of  Sylvia's  lap,  running  to  throw 
her  arms  around  the  newcomer,  who  knelt 
to  receive  the  ardent  embrace. 

"  Muvver  gone  so  long!"  sighed  the 
child.  "  Bruvver  'sleep.  Lady  came  and 
told  buful  stowy." 

The  mother  rose  and  smiled  at  Sylvia, 
with  a  little  questioning  and  greeting 
smile.  Whereupon  Sylvia  explained  her 
presence  and  the  two  were  soon  deep  in 
discussion  over  the  dainty  sample  place- 
cards,  while  Marianna  stood  quietly  by, 
too  well-trained  to  demand  the  rest  of  the 
beautiful  story,  but  evidently  shyly  hope- 
ful that  it  might  yet  be  forthcoming. 

Presently  came  a  tap-tap-tapping  sound 
down  the  hall,  and  the  door  opened  just 


Growth  of  the  Christmas  Family     49 

a  crack,  and  a  little,  thin,  dark-eyed  face 
peeped  in  and  vanished,  evidently  put  to 
flight  by  the  presence  of  a  stranger. 

"  'Lizbef!  Come,  'Lizbef !  "  cried  Mari- 
anna,  running  to  the  door.  But  the  shy 
little  guest  was  already  far  down  the  hall- 
way, and  Marianna  turned  back  disap- 
pointedly. Evidently  "  'Lizbef  "  was  a 
favorite  with  the  Wonder  Baby. 

"  Run  after  her,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Emory. 
And  Marianna  went  dancing  demurely  off, 
for  even  her  childlikeness  had  something 
of  minuet  charm  and  grace  and  quaint- 
ness. 

"  Elizabeth  is  a  little  neighbor,"  ex- 
plained Mrs.  Emory.  "  She  is  a  dear  child, 
and  we  are  all  so  fond  of  her;  but  she  is 
very  shy  and  sensitive  because  of  her 
lameness." 

"  Oh,  is  she  lame?"  in  quick  sympathy 
from  Sylvia. 


50  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"  Yes,  a  serious  spinal  curvature  which 
the  doctors  think  could  be  cured  by  an 
operation,  possibly,  but  her  aunt,  with 
whom  she  lives,  has  a  good-sized,  healthy 
and  hungry  brood  of  her  own,  and  no 
money  to  spare  for  the  operation,  though 
she  regrets  the  fact,  as  we  all  do,  and 
wishes  Elizabeth  might  be  cured." 

"  Oh,"  cried  Sylvia,  and  caught  her 
breath.  She  had  so  much  money,  herself 
—  so  much  more  than  she  could  possibly 
spend.  If  only  she  could  use  a  portion  of 
it  to  cure  the  little  invalid!  Her  fertile 
brain  was  already  seeking  ways  and 
means.  Suddenly  an  inspiration  came! 
The  Christmas  family!  With  character- 
istic absorption  in  whatever  lay  upper- 
most in  her  mind,  place-cards  were  for- 
gotten and  in  a  flash  she  was  pouring  out 
her  idea  in  Mrs.  Emory's  ears,  a  some- 
what incoherent  jumble  of  words,  but 


Growth  of  the  Christmas  Family     51 

with  a  clearness  of  sentimeat  and  firm- 
ness of  purpose  which  were  unmistak- 
able. 

'  You  and  Marianna  would  have  to 
come,  too,  with  Elizabeth,"  she  concluded. 
"  Oh,  I  wanted  her  and  you,  too,  from  the 
first  moment  I  saw  you.  And  I  do  need 
you  all  so  in  my  Christmas  family,  and  I 
have  a  doctor  friend  who  will  look  at  Eliz- 
abeth, and  see  what  can  be  done,  and  in 
the  meantime  we  will  all  be  so  happy  to- 
gether. Couldn't  you,  wouldn't  you,  dear 
Mrs.  Emory?  That  would  make  Big  Sis- 
ter and  Little  Sister  and  Wonder  Baby 
and  —  " 

But,  before  Mrs.  Emory  had  time  to 
respond  to  this  very  sudden  and  unex- 
pected proposition,  the  curtains  from  the 
next  room  parted,  and  a  very  sleepy,  rosy, 
and  altogether  adorable  little  cherub  stood 
blinking  at  them  an  instant,  and  then 


52  Sylvia's  Experiment 

staggered  crazily,  but  joyously,  to  Mrs. 
Emory. 

Arrived  at  this  haven  of  refuge,  he 
smiled  at  Sylvia  and  announced  rather  ob- 
viously, but  with  much  triumph,  "  Baby 
up." 

Surely  no  baby,  expressly  manufactured 
for  the  purpose,  would  so  exactly  have 
fulfilled  Sylvia's  ideal  of  a  Christmas  fam- 
ily baby.  It  was  settled!  She  must  and 
would  have  the  rosy  cherub,  and  his  for- 
get-me-not-eyed sister,  and  his  beautiful 
mother,  or  else  the  Christmas  family 
would  remain  forever  unrealized.  Having 
seen  the  three,  she  could  not  have  endured 
any  one  else  in  their  place.  And  this  she 
tried  to  explain  to  Mrs.  Emory  all  in  a 
breath.  In  the  midst  of  her  persuasions 
Marianna  returned  with  the  little  cripple, 
to  whom  Sylvia's  heart  warmed  at  once. 
She  was  far  from  being  the  ideal  that  Syl- 


Growth  of  the  Christmas  Family     53 

• 

via  had  seen,  in  her  mind's  eye,  of  the  Lit- 
tle Sister  of  the  family;  but  she  was  so 
shy  and  fragile,  and  big-eyed  and  pathetic, 
that  Sylvia  remade  her  ideal  at  once  to 
suit  the  occasion,  and  desired  the  child, 
crutches,  big  eyes,  close-cropped  black 
hair  and  all,  as  ardently  as  she  had  ever 
desired  the  red-cheeked,  flaxen  pig-tailed 
sister  of  her  dreams. 

"  Lady  will  tell  west  of  stowy  for  'Liz- 
bef  and  Bruvver  and  Mawianna,"  an- 
nounced the  daughter  of  the  house  plac- 
idly. 

And,  before  her  mother  could  protest, 
Marianna  was  at  her  old  post  in  Sylvia's 
lap,  and  Elizabeth  was  seated  as  close  as 
possible,  watching  Sylvia's  face  with  ab- 
sorbed interest,  and  hugging  an  old  rag 
doll  to  her  breast  as  she  listened.  Sylvia 
smiled  reassurance  over  the  golden  head 
at  Mrs.  Emory,  who  seated  herself  before 


54  Sylvias  Experiment 

the  fire  with  the  cherub  in  her  arms  and 
gave  herself  up  to  a  moment  of  rare  indo- 
lence. 

"Bless  the  child's  kind  heart,"  she 
thought.  "  Did  any  one  ever  hear  such 
an  extraordinary  proposition  made  so  sim- 
ply? A  Christmas  family!" 

She  smiled  into  the  fire  at  the  thought, 
and  then  the  smile  died  out.  Once,  not 
so  very  long  ago,  her  own  little  circle  had 
been  a  family  —  even  a  Christmas  family ; 
but  an  icy  January  had  succeeded  the 
Christmas.  The  young  husband  and  fa- 
ther had  succumbed,  after  a  brief  illness, 
to  pneumonia,  leaving  a  never-to-be-filled 
gap  in  the  circle.  The  very  joy  of  the  holi- 
day season  was  a  keen  pang  to  her,  with 
its  memories  and  its  empty  loneliness. 
The  baby  patted  her  cheek  caressingly, 
with  that  loving  intuitive  sympathy  that 
little  children  have,  and  her  heart  filled 


Growth  of  the  Christmas  Family     55 

with  thankfulness  that  she  still  had  so 
much.  She  must  never  let  her  own  lone- 
liness and  grief  mar  the  sunshine  of 
the  children.  She  looked  across  at  Syl- 
via, absorbed  in  her  tale,  and  her  heart 
warmed  and  went  out  to  the  girl  who 
was  so  much  more  alone  than  herself, 
so  much  less  blessed,  in  spite  of  her 
riches. 

"  And  so,"  Sylvia  was  saying,  "  Prince 
Thimbleberry  was  very  happy,  and  gave 
the  magic  rose-leaf  to  the  Princess  This- 
tledown to  keep  for  all  the  rest  of  her  life, 
and  whatever  they  wished  for  with 
all  their  heart,  they  always  had,  if  it 
was  good  and  wise  and  brought  happi- 
ness with  it  for  others  as  well  as  them- 
selves." 

Mrs.  Emory  smiled  over  at  Sylvia. 

"  I  suspect  you  are  the  Princess  Thistle- 
down, yourself,"  she  said. 


56  Sylvia's  Experiment 

Sylvia  smiled  back,  catching  a  different 
note  in  her  hostess'  voice  and  responding 
happily. 

"  Then  I  shall  wish  on  the  magic  rose- 
leaf  for  the  one  thing  I  want  more  than 
anything  else  in  the  world.  Please,  Mrs. 
Emory,  don't  you  think  I  am  going  to  get 
my  wish?  " 

Her  eyes  sought  her  new  friend's  anx- 
iously over  Marianna's  head.  Elizabeth, 
with  a  child's  instinct  for  knowing  when 
there  is  something  in  the  air,  looked  up, 
too.  Perhaps  it  was  the  pathos  in  the 
child's  eyes  which  decided  Mrs.  Emory, 
perhaps  it  was  the  magic  that  Bess  be- 
lieved her  friend  wielded.  At  any  rate, 
she  did  decide  all  in  a  flash. 

"  I  rather  think  you  can,  if  you  really 
want  it,"  she  answered. 

"Oh,  goody!"  cried  Sylvia.  "  Mari- 
anna,  Elizabeth  and  Brother,  you  are  all 


Growth  of  the  Christmas  Family     57 

going  to  be  part  of  the  Christmas  family! 
How  do  you  like  that?  " 

"  Is  dere  a  twee  and  good  fings  to  eat 
and  stowies  in  a  Cwistmas  fam'ly?"  in- 
quired Marianna  seriously. 

"Of  course,  you  darling!  There  is 
everything  in  the  world  that  is  nice,  and 
I  am  so  happy." 

So  happy,  indeed,  was  she  that  her  heart 
fairly  danced  and  her  feet  flew  and  her 
eyes  shone  like  stars  in  frosty  nights 
when,  a  little  later,  she  ran  up-stairs  to  her 
room  and  Bess,  to  tell  the  latter  all  about 
it,  and  how  astonishingly  fast  the  Christ- 
mas family  was  growing. 


I 


CHAPTER    IV 

PHIL   APPROVES 

recital  was  over  and  the  pe- 
riod of  fifteen  minutes  or  so 
which  really  constituted  the 
cream  of  the  evening  was  happily  at  hand. 
With  what  other  end,  indeed,  had  the  stu- 
dents of  Monroe  College  endured  the 
slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  boredom 
if  not  for  the  privilege  of  those  all  too  brief 
moments  of  feminine  society  at  St.  Anne's 
that  were  permitted  to  follow  the  pro- 
gram before  the  ominous  bell  should  sug- 
gest that  the  motion  to  adjourn  was  in 
order? 

The  corridor  to-night  was  accordingly 
filled  with  big,  beaming  lads   in   formal 

68 


Phil  Approves  59 

black  and  pretty  girls  in  rainbow  hues, 
standing  about  in  groups  or  couples.  The 
very  air  was  a-tingle  with  excitement  and 
gaiety  and  a  certain  carpe  diem  spirit 
which  both  acknowledged  and  defied  the 
transitoriness  of  all  human  felicity. 

Under  the  bust  of  John  Milton,  which 
stood  in  a  fairly  secluded  and  proportion- 
ally popular  corner  of  the  hall,  was  Sylvia, 
radiant  with  excitement  and  happiness 
and  enthusiasm,  all  sparkle  and  glow.  As 
Bess  said,  Sylvia  was  the  "  most  alive  per- 
son "  she  knew.  The  lucky  individual  for 
whom  she  was  scintillating  just  now  was 
Philip  Lorrimer,  a  tawny-haired  young 
giant  famous  in  football  annals,  and  with 
a  modest  reputation  for  scholarship  into 
the  bargain.  On  the  present  occasion  his 
frank  boyish  countenance  revealed  the 
fact  that  he  was  enjoying  himself  hugely. 

"  So  you  really  like  my  idea  of  a  Christ- 


60  Sylvia's  Experiment 

mas  family?"  Sylvia  was  inquiring  ear- 
nestly. 

"Like  it!  I  should  say  I  did!  It's 
bully!  But  what  under  the  sun  made  you 
think  of  it?" 

"  You,  chiefly,"  laughed  Sylvia.  "  The 
picture  you  drew  of  your  own  family 
hearthstone  was  so  moving." 

"  Sounds  like  a  nickelodeum,"  he  chuck- 
led. "So  I'm  to  blame?" 

"  Naturally.  I  never  would  have  known 
how  essential  to  happiness  was  a  Christ- 
mas family  if  you  had  not  painted  yours 
in  such  glowing  colors.  I  have  known 
ever  since  what  it  was  that  kept  me  sub- 
merged in  melancholia  —  the  mere  lack 
of  a  Christmas  family." 

He  laughed  at  the  vision  of  Sylvia  the 
radiant  submerged  in  anything,  especially 
in  melancholia. 

"  '  Hence,     loathed     melancholy,' '      he 


Phil  Approves  61 

quoted,  striking  an  attitude  and  bowing 
to  Mr.  Milton  in  courteous  acknowledg- 
ment of  his  indebtedness.  "  Hurrah  for 
the  Christmas  family!  You  certainly  are 
a  corker,  Sylvia!  You  don't  know  what 
a  blue  funk  I've  been  in  for  days  when- 
ever I  think  of  Christmas  vacation.  I 
miss  Dad  and  the  Mother  most  excrucia- 
ting when  I  have  time." 

'  You  don't  think  it  is  going  to  be  a 
bore?"  persisted  his  companion. 

Had  young  Mr.  Lorrimer  been  a  more 
finished  man  of  the  world,  instead  of  a 
hearty  honest  boy,  he  would  have  turned 
a  neat  compliment  at  this  juncture,  instead 
he  observed  sincerely,  "Bore  nothing!  It 
will  be  fine  skating  on  the  Green  River, 
if  this  weather  holds.  Honest  Injun,  we'll 
have  the  time  of  our  lives."  And  Sylvia 
smiled,  well  pleased,  never  missing  the 
compliment  she  might  have  had. 


62  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"  The  party  is  fearfully  heterogeneous," 
she  warned. 

"  We'll  make  it  homogeneous,  with  the 
accent  on  the  first  syllable,"  he  retorted. 
"  Don't  worry,  my  dear  young  friend,  the 
Christmas  family  is  going  to  be  a  howling 
success,  if  I  have  to  do  the  howling  my- 
self. By  the  way,  more  or  less  apropos, 
I  liked  your  song  very  much."  He 
glanced  down  at  the  roses  she  wore  and 
lifted  one  in  his  big  fingers  awkwardly. 
"  I  am  sorry  I  couldn't  send  you  any  flow- 
ers. I  wanted  to  but  — "  He  paused. 
How  could  he  explain  that  the  tutoring 
money,  which  was  rightfully  his  own,  and 
which  he  had  planned  to  dedicate  to  flow- 
ers, had  gone  to  pay  a  sick  friend's  doc- 
tor's bill? 

She  shook  her  head  at  him  reprovingly. 

"  Don't  be  a  goose,  Phil.  You  know  we 
settled  that  long  ago  for  good  and  all  I 


Phil  Approves  63 

don't  want  you  to  send  me  flowers.  I 
don't  need  them,  and  it's  not  fair  to  you 
or  to  your  father  and  mother  to  let  you 
spend  your  money  on  me.  These  are  from 
the  girls." 

A  swift  flash  of  relief  swept  his  trans- 
parent face.  It  was  not  Amidon  who  had 
sent  the  roses,  as  he  had  feared,  then.  He 
did  not  know  —  for  Sylvia  kept  her  own 
counsel  —  that  since  his  last  too  ardent 
and  unduly  cheerful  serenade  under  her 
window,  Jack  Amidon  had  fallen  from 
Sylvia's  good  graces. 

"  I  say,  Sylvia,"  he  burst  out  a  little 
awkwardly,  "  I  have  been  fooling  more  or 
less  about  the  Christmas  family,  but,  seri- 
ously, I  think  it  is  no  end  good  of  you  to 
ask  me  and  I  do  appreciate  it.  If  I  loafed 
around  the  city  for  two  weeks  I  wouldn't 
answer  for  consequences.  You  know  who 
finds  occupation  for  idle  hands?"  whim- 


64  Sylvia's  Experiment 

sically  but  with  an  undercurrent  of  ear- 
nestness. 

"  So  I  am  to  act  as  substitute  for  his 
Satanic  Majesty?"  smiled  Sylvia.  "With 
pleasure.  You  need  not  anticipate  any 
idle  hands  at  Arden  Hall.  There  won't 
be  any,  if  we  have  to  play  drop  the  hand- 
kerchief to  keep  'em  busy." 

"  I  can  imagine  Mr.  Mclntosh  indul- 
ging," he  grinned  back.  "  Hang  it,  there's 
the  bell.  They  get  stingier  every  night." 

"  Come  on,  Lorry !  The  curfew  tolls  the 
knell  of  parting  hands,"  called  a  jovial 
Sophomore,  and  the  two  members  of  the 
Christmas  family  bade  each  other  a  laugh- 
ing good  night. 

But  Phil's  share  in  the  Christmas  fam- 
ily was  not  destined  to  end  with  mere 
membership.  The  next  evening  Sylvia 
was  summoned  to  the  telephone  and  found 
her  brother  pro  tern  at  the  other  end  of  the 


Phil  Approves  65 

line,  evidently  a  good  deal  perturbed.  The 
chaperoning  teacher  who  presided  over 
the  one-sided  conversation  was  unable  to 
make  much  of  what  she  heard. 

"Hello!  Oh,  Phil!  Yes,  it's  Sylvia. 
Am  I  what?  Amiable?  Sure!  As  the  tab- 
ernacles. Go  ahead.  It  can't  be  so  bad  as 
that.  Please  don't  keep  me  in  this  har- 
rowing suspense.  What?  I  don't  under- 
stand. Professor  Lane!  You  asked  Pro- 
fessor Lane!  Oh,  no,  you  know  it's  not 
that,  Phil.  Don't  be  foolish.  It  is  because 
it  is  Professor  Lane  you  asked.  I  am 
scared  blue  of  him.  He  knows  such  a  ter- 
rible lot.  Oh,  I  don't  doubt  he  is  very  nice 
when  you  know  him.  Really!  I  should 
suppose  his  bugs  would  keep  him  com- 
pany. Nonsense,  Phil!  Of  course  we  are 
glad  to  have  him,  if  he's  lonesome  and 
would  like  to  come.  I'll  write  to  him  to- 
night. Not  a  bit  of  it.  Quite  the  contrary, 


66  Sylvias  Experiment 

I'm  delighted.  You  are  an  honor  to  the 
family.  What!  Phil!  Oh,  your  mother's 
love.  That's  dear  of  her.  I'm  ever  so 
much  obliged  to  her.  Yes,  I  have  to  cram, 
too.  Good  luck!  Not  at  all.  Shoe's  on 
the  other  foot,  I  assure  you.  Good-by." 
And,  with  a  twinkle  in  her  eyes  and  a 
little  sinking  feeling  in  her  heart,  Sylvia 
went  up-stairs  to  write  a  pretty  little  note 
to  Professor  Lane,  whom  big-hearted,  im- 
pulsive Phil  had  inadvertently  invited  to 
the  Christmas  family  party.  Professor 
Lane  of  all  people!  The  great  beetle  man, 
whom  the  boys  irreverently  and  affection- 
ately dubbed  "  Bug-house  "  Lane !  Syl- 
via was  dazed,  but  still  game,  and  the  note 
which  seconded  Phil's  invitation  was,  as 
she  told  Bess,  a  "  little  masterpiece  of  fic- 
tion." 


CHAPTER    V 
THE   "BIG  BROTHER" 

CHRISTMAS  fell  on  Wednesday 
that  year,  and  St.  Anne's  closed 
for  the  holidays  the  preceding 
Friday.  On  the  Saturday  before  vacation 
Sylvia  and  Bess  obtained  permission  of 
the  ruling  powers  to  go  out,  under 
Mrs.  Abbott's  chaperonage,  to  Greendale, 
which  was  only  a  few  miles  out  of  the 
city,  to  make  arrangements  for  opening 
up  Arden  Hall  for  the  invasion  of  the 
Christmas  family. 

The  Hall  was  a  beautiful  old-fashioned 
mansion,  set  upon  a  hill,  with  wide 
porches  and  spacious  lawns.  Time  had 
softened  and  mellowed  its  red  brick  to  a 
warm  gracious  rosiness  of  tint,  and  its 

67 


68  Sylvias  Experiment 

years  of  disuse  had  given  it  an  air  of  dig- 
nified, waiting  hospitality  instead  of  churl- 
ish aloofness,  for  it  had  never  been  per- 
mitted to  lapse  into  disrepair,  and  the 
faithful  caretakers,  Uncle  George  Wash- 
ington and  Aunt  Mandy,  who  had  served 
the  Ardens  all  their  lives,  took  unremit- 
ting pride  in  keeping  the  Hall  always 
ready  for  the  coming  of  the  young  mis- 
tress, who  was  the  last  of  the  Ardens. 

Sylvia  was  nearly  beside  herself  with 
delight  at  being  "  at  home "  again,  and 
with  such  pleasant  prospects  of  a  speedy 
and  more  permanent  stay,  and  Aunt 
Mandy  was  scarcely  less  stirred  by  the 
excitement  of  the  occasion,  and  lent  her- 
self to  the  plans  for  the  unusual  house 
party  with  an  enthusiasm  hardly  less  great 
than  Sylvia's  own.  Luckily  for  the  peace 
and  comfort  of  the  Christmas  family, 
Aunt  Mandy  "took  to"  Mrs.  Abbott  at 


The  "  Big  Brother  "  69 

once,  thanks  to  that  lady's  gentle  tact  and 
graciousness,  a  fact  which  Sylvia  per- 
ceived with  inward  gratitude,  for  she  had 
foreseen  breakers  ahead  in  this  direction. 
Aunt  Mandy  in  a  beatific  frame  of  mind, 
all  the  rest  was  easy,  clear  sailing  with  the 
Christmas  mother's  hand  at  the  helm. 

"  Don't  you  all  fret  yersel's  a  mite," 
Aunt  Mandy  assured  them.  "  I'll  fetch  in 
those  no  'count  nieces  o'  mine  ter  tote  and 
scrub,  and  this  yere  old  house  will  shine 
like  yer  two  bright  eyes,  Miss  Sylvy, 
honey.  An'  George  Washington  he'll  git 
out  his  old  fiddle  'n'  this  old  Hall'll  see 
such  high  jinks  as  it  hain't  seen  these 
many  days,  not  since  the  Master  and  Miss 
Nell  was  home,  rest  their  souls ! " 

Sylvia's  eyes  traveled  a  bit  wistfully 
about  the  big,  dark,  wainscoted  dining- 
room,  where  they  chanced  to  be  standing, 
as  she  tried  to  conjure  up  the  past  Aunt 


70  Sylvias  Experiment 

Mandy's  words  suggested  and  the  pos- 
session of  which  she  half  envied  the  old 
servant. 

"Anybody  at  home?"  called  a  cheery 
voice  unexpectedly. 

Everybody  turned  quickly  and  beheld  a 
tall  young  man  with  red  hair  and  twin- 
kling blue  eyes  standing  in  the  doorway. 

"Oh,  here  you  are!  I  couldn't  raise  a 
soul  at  the  door,  so  I  came  on  a  personally 
conducted  tour  of  discovery.  How  is  your 
honor,  Miss  Sylvia?  Right  glad  to  see 
you." 

"Perfectly  fine,  Doctor  Tom.  Ouch! 
Please  don't  scrunch  all  my  fingers.  You 
always  forget  you're  such  a  giant.  Mrs. 
Abbott,  this  is  Dr.  Thomas  Daly,  one  of 
our  neighbors.  Bess,  you  remember  Doc- 
tor Tom,  who  sent  us  the  wonderful  choc- 
olates that  I  had  to  hide  in  my  hat  box 
to  keep  from  being  confiscated." 


The  "  Big  Brother  "  71 

"  They  were  awfully  good  chocolates," 
said  Bess  smiling  reminiscently,  "  quite 
worth  the  risk  we  ran  having  them  in  our 
possession." 

He  chuckled. 

"  So  chocolates  are  contraband  goods  in 
a  young  ladies'  seminary.  How  was  a 
poor  bachelor  to  know  that?  Why  wasn't 
I  warned  and  advised?"  he  complained. 

"At  the  price  of  losing  the  chocolates? 
Not  much.  You  are  dreadfully  ignorant, 
Doctor  Tom.  Oh,  did  you  know  that  I 
am  coming  home  for  the  vacation?  Isn't 
it  too  good  to  be  true?  " 

"  I  hope  it  is  not  so  good  as  all  that," 
he  smiled.  "  I  say,  Aunt  Mandy,  you  had 
better  watch  out.  She'll  raise  the  roof. 
She  is  a  dreadfully  up  and  coming  young 
person." 

Aunt  Mandy  grinned  until  both  rows  of 
white  teeth  showed  from  ear  to  ear.  Next 


72  Sylvia's  Experiment 

to  Sylvia  the  doctor  was  prime  favorite 
with  the  old  negro. 

"  Sh-sh,"  reproved  Sylvia.  "  You 
mustn't  give  me  away  before  Mrs.  Abbott. 
She  thinks  I  am  everything  that  is  nice. 
Don't  you,  Mrs.  Abbott?"  turning  to  her 
friend,  who  had  been  listening  with  quiet 
interest  to  the  conversation. 

"  I  wouldn't  dare  say  how  nice  I  think 
you  are.  Besides,  there  isn't  time,"  she 
smiled  back. 

"  Bless  you,  you  dear  satisfactory 
Christmas  mother!  Doctor  Tom,  I  didn't 
give  you  her  full  title.  She  is  my  Christ- 
mas mother." 

"And  what  is  a  Christmas  mother? 
Something  nice,  evidently,"  with  a  little 
bow  to  Mrs.  Abbott,  "but  just  what, 
please?  " 

Whereupon  he  was  enthusiastically  in- 
itiated into  the  mysteries  of  that  "  per- 


The  "Big  Brother"  73 

fectly  new  article  upon  the  market  "  —  a 
Christmas  family. 

'  Well,  upon  my  word,  Miss  Sylvia,  you 
are  more  of  a  genius  even  than  I  took  you 
for,"  he  exclaimed  admiringly,  when  the 
explanation  ended.  "Got  any  vacancies? 
When  do  the  lists  close?  " 

"  They  are  open  at  least  until  New 
Year's.  Why?" 

"  Because  I  am  simply  pining  for  mem- 
bership, if  I  could  get  some  one  to  pro- 
pose my  name  and  somebody  to  constitute 
a  majority  vote." 

:<  But  you  aren't  lonely,  Doctor  Tom, 
and  the  family  exists  solely  for  the  benefit 
of  lonely  people.  I'm  sorry." 

"Not  lonely!  Jerusalem  cherries!  I'm 
the  all-firedest  lonesome  chap  between  the 
poles.  I'd  have  you  know,  you  unfeeling 
wretch,  that  my  mother  and  Letitia  are 
in  Bermuda,  and  I  am  living  in  a  cob- 


74  Sylvias  Experiment 

webby,  unswept  corner  of  my  maternal 
roof  and  taking  my  meals  at  the  Dana 
House.  If  you  can  conjure  a  more  har- 
rowing picture  of  desolation  and  gloom, 
do  so  at  your  peril,  but  don't  repeat  it  to 
me.  I  could  not  stand  anything  worse 
than  my  condition." 

"  You  poor,  dear,  abused  little  man," 
said  Sylvia,  "  of  course  you  shall  come. 
Sha'n't  he,  Aunt  Mandy?" 

"  Reckon  we'll  have  to  let  him,"  beamed 
that  functionary  delightedly.  "  I  wouldn't 
let  a  yellow  purp  feed  at  the  Dana  House, 
if  he  was  my  purp,"  she  added. 

"  And  what  is  a  yellow  purp  in  compar- 
ison to  a  red-haired  man?  "  cried  the  doc- 
tor triumphantly.  "  I  feel  like  shedding 
tears  of  joy  on  being  thus  redeemed  from 
the  destruction  that  wasteth  at  noon-day 
and  every  other  meal-time.  May  I  really 
come,  Miss  Sylvia?" 


The  "Big  Brother"  75 

"  Of  course  you  may,"  heartily.  "  I  am 
really  ever  so  glad,  for  you  shall  be  the 
Big  Brother.  I  am  sure  you  are  big 
enough,  in  all  conscience.  Besides,  I 
wanted  you  anyway.  I  wanted  to  consult 
you  professionally." 

"Professionally!  You  look  about  as 
much  in  need  of  my  professional  services 
as  a  Jack  rose." 

"  Oh,  not  for  myself,  for  another  mem- 
ber of  the  family  —  little  Elizabeth  Gray. 
She  has  something  the  matter  with  her 
back,  and  I  want  you  to  see  what,  and  if 
it  can  be  cured." 

"  I  see,"  soberly.  "  Very  well,  my  lady, 
I  am  yours  to  command.  Backs  are  my 
business." 

"  Thank  you.  And  you  will  really  be 
here  Friday  night,  Doctor  Tom?  Next 
Friday,  when  we  all  come?  " 

"  Sure   as   preaching,   and   some   surer 


76  Sylvia's  Experiment 

than  some  preaching,"  he  promised.  "  See 
here,  Miss  Bess,  aren't  you  in  on  this?" 
noticing  her  sober  face. 

"  Oh,  Bess  has  four  brothers  and  two 
sisters  and  a  father  and  mother  and  grand- 
father, not  to  mention  several  in-laws,  and 
an  indefinite  number  of  nephews  and 
nieces,  so  she  can't  really  figure  among  the 
lonesome  on  the  face  of  the  globe,"  ex- 
plained Sylvia.  "  But  she  is  coming  for 
a  few  days  after  Christmas,  aren't  you, 
Betty?" 

"  If  they'll  let  me,"  sighed  Bess.  "  Oh, 
dear,  I  almost  wish  I  was  an  orphan.  Oh, 
no,  I  don't,"  she  corrected  herself  hastily, 
looking  so  horrified  at  her  own  words  that 
every  one  laughed. 

"  Now  we  have  them  all  except  the  boy," 
announced  Sylvia  later,  while  the  party 
were  doing  ample  justice  to  Aunt  Mandy's 
delicious  luncheon.  "  I  can't  see  my  way 


The  Cf  Big  Brother  "  77 

clear  to  him,  but  perhaps  he  will  drop 
from  the  skies  as  conveniently  as  his 
brother  did.  If  he  is  as  satisfactory  as 
Doctor  Tom  I  shall  not  complain." 

*  You  know  him  well?"  asked  Mrs. 
Abbott,  thinking  it  might  be  well  to  know 
a  little  about  his  family,  though  the  young 
doctor's  face  spoke  for  itself  a  sufficient 
recommendation. 

"  Yes.  His  father  was  the  junior  mem- 
ber of  my  grandfather's  firm,  Arden  and 
Daly,  you  know.  After  grandfather's 
death  the  business  was  sold  out  and  Mr. 
Daly  went  in  to  some  other  concern.  He 
lost  nearly  all  his  money  just  before  he 
died.  Doctor  Tom  was  just  through  col- 
lege and  he  earned  his  own  way  through 
Harvard  Medical  School,  and  has  done  a 
good  deal  toward  supporting  his  mother 
and  sister  into  the  bargain,  I  suspect,  until 
recently;  since  Letitia  has  been  a  full- 


78  Sylvia's  Experiment 

fledged  trained  nurse,  she,  at  least,  is  off 
his  hands.  When  I  came  to  America  he 
was  one  of  the  first  people  who  came  to 
see  me,  and  he  and  his  mother  and  Miss 
Letitia  have  been  so  good  to  me  ever  since. 
His  mother  is  the  frailest  little  thing,  and 
looks  as  if  a  puff  of  wind  would  blow  her 
away,  so  they  are  terribly  careful  of  her. 
I  don't  believe  Doctor  Tom  ever  takes  a 
vacation  himself,  but,  of  course,  it  is  he 
who  is  sending  her  to  Bermuda.  Oh,  he 
is  fine  and  big  every  way.  He  has  had  to 
fight  for  everything  he  has  had  for  years, 
after  having  everything  done  for  him  as 
a  boy.  He  is  a  very  good  surgeon  for  so 
young  a  man,  too;  and  somebody  told  me 
he  had  a  big  future  ahead  of  him,  if  he 
didn't  have  too  much  to  hamper  him." 

"  He  is  ever  so  nice  and  jolly,"  said  Bess, 
"  though  he  is  dreadfully  homely." 

"  I  like  homely  men  best,"  said  Sylvia 


The  "Big  Brother"  79 

loyally.  "  Adonises  are  always  so  con- 
ceited. I  wouldn't  swap  him  for  the  hand- 
somest man  living.  He's  handsome  un- 
derneath. There,  Christmas  mother,  you 
are  smiling.  What  is  it?  " 

:<  I  liked  your  defence  of  the  homely 
men.  I  have  a  leaning  that  way  my- 
self." 

"  We'll  have  a  number  of  'em  in  the 
family.  I  judge  beauty  isn't  Grandpa  Mc- 
Intosh's  strong  suit,  and  as  for  Professor 
Lane  —  " 

"Professor  Lane!" 

"  You  blessed  Christmas  mother,  did  I 
forget  to  tell  you  he  was  coming?  Phil 
asked  him  in  a  moment  of  temporary  aber- 
ration. Do  you  mind?"  anxiously. 

"  Of  course  not,  dear.  I  was  merely  sur- 
prised. Professor  Lane  and  I  were  in  col- 
lege together." 

"  Really?    I  suppose  he  must  have  been 


80  Sylvia's  Experiment 

young  once,  but,  somehow,  I  can't  imag- 
ine it." 

Mrs.  Abbott  smiled  at  the  arrogance 
and  limited  vision  of  youth. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  observed  quietly,  "  he 
was  quite  young  once." 

"  I  am  relieved  to  hear  it.  I'll  have  to 
remember  the  fact  so  as  not  to  be  too 
scared  of  him.  Phil  says  he  is  great.  But 
he  likes  all  sorts  of  queer  freaks,  so  I  never 
can  tell  much  by  that.  I  fancy  they  go 
into  buggy  ecstasies  together.  Oh,  me! 
Christmas  mother,  do  you  suppose  we  will 
mix?" 

It  must  be  confessed  she  had  moments 
of  horrible  doubt  as  to  the  success  of  her 
undertaking,  which  loomed  at  times  very 
large  and  risky. 

"  I  think  so,  dear.  This  house  is  enough 
to  promote  family  feeling  in  the  most  con- 
firmed desert  island  dweller."  Mrs.  Ab- 


The  "Big  Brother"  81 

bott's  eyes  strayed  lovingly,  as  she  spoke, 
about  the  great,  quiet,  gracious  room  with 
the  keen  appreciation  of  a  born  home- 
maker. 

"  Here's  hoping,"  sighed  Sylvia,  still  a 
little  dubious. 

"  Sylvia's  a  better  mixer  even  than  the 
house,"  put  in  Bess  loyally. 

And  Mrs.  Abbott's  gaze,  returning  from 
the  carved  oak  panelling  to  her  young 
hostess'  radiant,  earnest  face  smiled  hap- 
pily and  understandingly. 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE   HOME-COMING 


I 


"VIE  last  tedious  lesson  had  been 
recited,  the  last  suitcase  locked, 
the  last  good-by  exchanged,  and, 
at  last  —  at  last  Sylvia  was  going  home. 
It  seemed  as  if  the  local  train  never  poked 
itself  with  such  aggravating  leisureliness 
over  the  three  miles  from  the  city  to 
Greendale  as  on  this  particular  Friday 
afternoon,  when  her  spirit  was  more  fit 
for  wings  or  Mercury  sandals  than  accom- 
modation trains. 

"  Gre-enda-le !  "  drawled  the  conductor 
at  length,  and,  in  a  flash,  Sylvia  was  on 
her  feet  poised  for  instantaneous  flight  as 
soon  as  the  crowds  in  the  narrow  aisles 

82 


The  Home-coming  83 

permitted.  She  had  scarcely  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  station  platform  before  a 
hand  seized  her  satchel  and  a  gay  voice 
was  saying,  "Hello,  Sister!"  She  looked 
up  to  behold  Doctor  Tom's  big  form  tow- 
ering above  and  his  jolly  blue  eyes  twin- 
kling down  at  her  from  the  heights. 

"  Oh,  Doctor  Tom !  Aren't  you  a  jewel  ? 
Did  you  really  come  to  meet  me?  " 

"Sure  and  I  did!  What's  the  use  of 
adopting  a  sister  if  you  can't  have  the  fun 
of  meeting  her?  Trunk?" 

"  Yes.  Wait,  here  are  the  checks.  Is 
the  stage  here?  " 

"  Yes.  It  can  take  the  trunk.  You  are 
coming  with  Tim  and  me." 

"  Oh,  goody !  I  haven't  had  a  sleigh 
ride  the  whole  blessed  winter!" 

And  it  was  with  a  little  blissful  sigh  of 
deep  content  that  she  permitted  herself  to 
be  tucked  in  under  the  fur  robe  in  the  little 


84  Sylvia's  Experiment 

cutter  behind  black  Tim  who  looked  round 
at  them,  pawing  the  snow  with  some  im- 
patience as  if  to  say,  "  Do  hurry.  I've 
waited  just  as  long  as  I  possibly  can 
stand." 

"  All  right,  Timmy,  my  boy !  "  said  the 
doctor,  and,  in  a  twinkling,  they  were  off 
down  the  smooth  snow-packed  road  at  a 
pace  which  set  the  color  flying  to  Sylvia's 
face  and  made  her  eyes  shine  brighter  than 
ever.  She  was  so  happy  she  was  fairly 
breathless.  This  was  the  real  thing,  the 
kind  of  home-coming  she  had  dreamed  of, 
as  different  as  white  from  black  from  the 
usual  taxi-cab  journey  through  crowded 
city  streets  to  a  great,  cheerless  hotel. 
She  looked  up  to  find  her  companion  smi- 
ling inquiringly  down  at  her. 

"  Like  it?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Like  it!  I  never  was  so  happy  in  my 
life!  Is  the  Christmas  mother  there?" 


The  Home-coming  85 

"  Yes,  and  Mrs.  Emory  and  the  babies. 
I  must  say,  Miss  Sylvia,  you  have  aston- 
ishingly good  taste  in  families,  especially 
in  the  female  line.  I  couldn't  have  done 
it  better  myself." 

"Aren't  the  babies  perfect  cherubs? 
Have  you  seen  Elizabeth?" 

"  Just  a  peep.  She  ran  away  as  fast  as 
her  crutches  would  take  her,  which  was 
going  some,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  She  is  dreadfully  shy,  but  she  won't 
run  away  from  you  when  she  knows  you. 
She  will  stay  and  adore,  the  way  the  rest 
do.  Oh,  Doctor  Tom,  I  do  so  hope  you 
can  cure  her!  " 

"  So  do  I.  What  are  her  people  about 
that  they  have  not  had  a  try  at  it  before 
this?" 

"  Her  father  and  mother  are  dead.  She 
lives  with  an  aunt  who  has  a  very  large 
family  of  her  own,  and  more  uses  for  her 


86  Sylvias  Experiment 

pennies  than  she  has  pennies,  I  fancy. 
She  is  nice  and  kind  and  will  be  very  grate- 
ful if  we  can  help  Elizabeth." 

He  smiled  a  little  at  the  "  we,"  for  he 
guessed  whose  generous  purse-strings 
were  to  be  opened  to  defray  the 
cost  of  an  operation  if  there  was  to  be 
one. 

"  She  is  a  lucky  youngster  to  have 
strayed  into  the  forest  of  Arden,"  he  com- 
mented. "  We  all  are.  It's  a  charmed 
region." 

"  I  hope  so,"  s'ighed  Sylvia,  a  little  dubi- 
ously. "  Sometimes  I  have  cold  chills 
down  my  spinal  column  when  I  realize 
what  a  dreadfully  presumptuous  and  dan- 
gerous thing  I  am  doing.  Suppose  you 
all  hate  each  other!" 

"Down  with  the  haters!  We'll  drop 
the  first  one  who  shows  symptoms  of  ill 
temper  into  the  river." 


The  Home-coming  87 

"  It's  frozen,"  objected  Sylvia  whimsi- 
cally. 

"  We  will  make  him  skate  off  his  grouch, 
then.  I  say  him  advisedly,  for  a  more 
amiable  group  of  ladies  it  has  never  been 
my  good  fortune  to  meet.  If  there  is  any 
trouble  it  will  come  from  the  troublesome 
sex." 

'  You  and  Phil  are  all  right,  but  when 
I  reflect  on  the  Professor  and  Mr.  Mcln- 
tosh  I  quake." 

"  Hm-m !  I  know  the  Professor.  He  is 
the  most  gentle  and  genial  chap  on  record. 
You  need  not  turn  Quaker  on  his  account. 
Mclntosh  is  an  unknown  quantity,  though 
he  is,  in  a  way,  one  of  the  family  by  good 
rights." 

"Mr.  Mclntosh!" 

"  He  used  to  keep  books  for  Arden  and 
Daly  in  that  far  gone  era  before  you  and 
I  were  in  existence." 


88  Sylvias  Experiment 

"  Did  he?  That  must  have  been  how  he 
knew  my  father  and  Aunt  Nell.  Isn't  it 
queer?  " 

"  Surprising  how  small  the  world  is ! 
Don't  remonstrate.  I  only  did  it  to  spare 
you.  Somebody  had  to  say  it.  It's  as 
inevitable  as  measles." 

Sylvia  laughed,  then  grew  grave.  They 
had  turned  up  the  hill  road  which  led  be- 
tween the  pines  to  the  Hall.  Joyous  as 
the  occasion  was,  she  was  vaguely  aware 
that  it  had  another  aspect  as  well.  She 
was  going  home  at  last,  after  all  these 
years,  and  the  thought  brought  with  it  a 
happiness  so  poignant  as  to  be  not  wholly 
distinct  from  pain.  The  early  winter  twi- 
light was  already  descending  on  the  pine- 
shaded  road,  but  as  they  took  the  last  turn, 
which  revealed  the  house  on  the  hill,  the 
pale  sunshine  fell  on  the  red  brick,  lighting 
it  to  a  soft,  benignant  radiance  of  hue. 


The  Home-coming  89 

Tim  had  scarcely  been  brought  to  a  halt 
before  the  wide  front  porch  before  Sylvia 
was  out  of  the  sleigh  and  up  the  steps. 
The  door  flew  open  and  the  Christmas 
mother  stood  on  the  threshold  with  out- 
stretched arms,  and  straight  into  those 
waiting  arms  sped  Sylvia  like  a  bird  to 
its  nest. 

Doctor  Tom  drove  round  to  the  stable 
to  put  up  his  horse,  whistling  valiantly  as 
he  went.  He  needed  the  whistle  as  an 
offset  to  his  feelings.  Sylvia's  home-com- 
ing had  stirred  his  big,  affectionate,  sym- 
pathetic heart  and  set  him  to  thinking. 
Some  day  he  would  like  just  such  a  tall, 
bright-eyed  daughter  to  come  dancing 
light-heartedly  up  his  own  steps  to  the 
embrace  of  a  real  Christmas  mother. 

He  shook  his  head  a  little  soberly  as  he 
took  off  Tim's  bridle. 

"  Don't  see  how  we  are  going  to  manage 


90  Sylvia's  Experiment 

it,  old  boy,"  he  said  at  last  as  he  stroked 
the  glossy  neck.  "  Don't  see  how  we  are 
going  to  manage  it." 

A  little  later,  having  exercised  his  priv- 
ilege of  washing  his  hands  in  the  kitchen 
and  chatting  a  bit  with  Aunt  Mandy,  he 
strolled  up-stairs  and  paused  before  the 
library  door,  whence  issued  a  pleasant 
mingled  sound  of  talk  and  laughter  and 
tinkling  china. 

"  I  am  a-hungry  —  a-hungry 
And  I  would  I  had  some  tea," 

he  observed  plaintively,  as  he  projected  his 
•red  head  through  the  curtains.  "  May  I 
come  in?  " 

Sylvia  sprang  up  with  a  laugh. 

"  Do  come  in,  Doctor  Tom.  I  began  to 
think  I  had  dreamed  you.  I  was  so  ex- 
cited I  never  stopped  to  thank  you,"  peni- 
tently. 

"Dream  nothing!    Tim  and  I  are  real- 


The  Home-coming  91 

ities,  I  assure  you.  You  needn't  go  to 
making  any  attenuated  ghosts  out  of  us. 
We  shall  object." 

'  Then,  if  you  are  really  flesh,  you  will 
want  some  tea.  Mrs.  Emory,  you  have 
met  Doctor  Daly?  Then  will  you  please 
pour  him  some  tea?  Very  strong  with 
two  lumps.  Isn't  that  it,  Doctor  Tom?" 

"  To  a  T,"  he  grinned.  "  Bless  us,"  he 
added,  dropping  into  a  big  chair,  "  we 
haven't  been  so  happy  since  we  had  the 
measles.  Have  we,  young  lady?"  ad- 
dressing Marianna  gravely. 

That  young  person  looked  a  little 
dubious  and  non-committal,  never  hav- 
ing experienced  the  pleasures  of  mea- 
sles and  being  unacquainted  with  the 
term. 

Having  served  the  doctor,  and  brought 
a  fresh  cup  of  tea  to  Mrs.  Abbott,  Sylvia 
went  back  to  the  low  stool  before  the  fire, 


92  Sylvia's  Experiment 

which  she  had  vacated  at  Doctor  Tom's 
entrance.  She  held  out  a  hand  enticingly 
to  Marianna,  who  hesitated  then  sidled  up 
crab-fashion  and  permitted  herself  to  be 
captured  bodily.  Brother  —  whose  real 
name  was  Donald,  by  the  way  —  stood 
like  a  plump  little  statue  braced  against 
his  mother's  knee  by  the  tea  table,  taking 
in  the  whole  scene  with  wide-open  blue 
eyes,  while  he  occupied  himself  happily 
munching  a  cracker,  which  had  been  his 
rather  limited  share  of  the  tea-party. 
Elizabeth  sat  curled  up  in  the  corner  of 
the  big  couch  like  a  shy,  bright-eyed  lit- 
tle mouse,  watching  and  listening.  When 
Doctor  Tom  finished  his  tea  he  rose  and 
strolled  casually  over  to  the  couch  and  sat 
down. 

"  I  tell  very  remarkably  good  stories," 
he  remarked  impersonally  to  the  air. 

Marianna   wriggled    round   in   Sylvia's 


The  Home-coming  93 

lap  to  peep  at  this  boastful  person  and  see 
if  he  were  going  to  make  good  his  asser- 
tion then  and  there. 

"  Miss  Elizabeth  Jane  Gray,  do  you 
like  stories?"  he  continued,  still  without 
facing  his  neighbor. 

Silence.  Then  Marianna  came  to  the 
rescue. 

'Lizbef  does  like  stowies,"  she  volun- 
teered. 

"  Oho!  I  thought  so.  Let's  see  though, 
I  can  tell  for  sure  in  a  minute,"  and,  en- 
tirely without  warning,  he  whirled  around 
on  the  shy  mouse.  "  Let  me  see  your 
nose,"  he  ordered.  "  I  can  always  tell  by 
that."  Gravely  he  tilted  her  chin  and 
scrutinized  the  thin  little  nose.  Marianna 
slid  out  of  Sylvia's  lap  and  drew  near,  fas- 
cinated by  the  process. 

"  She  does ! "  he  cried  triumphantly  at 
last.  "  She  does.  I  felt  sure  of  it." 


94  Sylvia's  Experiment 

Marianna  came  several  steps  nearer. 
Even  Brother  caught  the  infection  and 
teetered  unsteadily  a  few  inches  from 
his  mother.  Elizabeth  smiled  shyly  and 
hitched  a  shade  nearer  her  companion. 
Sylvia  and  Mrs.  Emory  exchanged 
amused  glances. 

"That  settles  it!"  cried  Sylvia.  "The 
rest  of  us  are  out  of  the  race  forever,  if 
he  once  begins  to  tell  stories.  He  is  worse 
than  the  Pied  Piper.  Mrs.  Emory,  you 
are  dreadfully  tired,"  she  added  abruptly, 
suddenly  realizing  the  dark  shadows  be- 
neath the  blue  eyes. 

"A  little,"  admitted  her  friend.  "I 
have  been  working  rather  late  nights  to 
fill  the  Christmas  orders,  so  that  I  could 
have  a  real  holiday  with  the  Christmas 
family." 

Sylvia  rose  and  held  out  her  hand  with 
a  smile, 


The  Home-coming  95 

"  Come  and  I'll  show  you  a  secret,"  she 
said. 

Instinctively  Mrs.  Emory  turned  to 
look  for  the  children,  but  all  three  were 
on  the  couch  with  Doctor  Tom,  even  the 
baby  having  been  lured  thereto  by  a  de- 
lightfully dangling  watch-fob.  She  turned 
back  to  Sylvia  with  a  smile,  and  followed 
her  into  the  curtained  alcove  just  beyond 
the  library.  It  was  a  tiny  room,  con- 
taining only  a  broad,  comfortable 
couch,  a  cushioned  window-seat,  a  little 
stand  with  a  few  magazines,  and  a  low 
rocker. 

"  This  is  the  secret,"  said  Sylvia.  "  You 
are  to  take  a  teeny  weeny  rest  until  din- 
ner-time." 

And  Mrs.  Emory  submitted  to  being 
arranged  on  the  couch  with  a  soft  afghan 
over  her.  It  was  a  blissful  change  to 
be  the  cared  for  instead  of  always  the 


96  Sylvia's  Experiment 

caring,  and  she  smiled  up  at  Sylvia 
happily. 

"  I  feel  like  a  lotus  eater,"  she  mur- 
mured. "  What  a  blessing  you  are,  Syl- 
via!" 

"  The  house  is  full  of  them  —  Christmas 
blessings,"  Sylvia  told  her.  "Oh,  Mrs. 
Emory  —  "  she  paused,  and  a  pretty  color 
swept  her  face.  "  I  can't  keep  calling  you 
that.  It  is  too  stiff  and  far  off,"  she  pro- 
tested. 

"  My  name  is  Felicia.  Why  not  call  me 
that?" 

"Felicia!  Oh,  may  I?  It's  so  pretty! 
You  are  sure  you  do  not  mind?  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  shall  love  it  from  you.  It 
is  a  long  time  since  I  have  heard  it  from 
any  one." 

When  Sylvia  went  back  to  the  library 
she  found  the  children  absorbed  in  Doc- 
tor Tom's  story,  and  Mrs.  Abbott  sitting 


The  Home-coming  97 

quietly  knitting  before  the  fire.  She  went 
over  and  put  her  arms  around  her  and 
whispered:  "Christmas  mother!  Christ- 
mas mother!  I  am  so  happy." 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE   ABSENT    MEMBER 


1 


evening  train  brought  Phil 
Lorrimer  and  Professor  Lane  to 
the  Hall,  but  no  "  Grandpa  Mcln- 
tosh."  While  the  rest  of  the  family  were 
pleasantly  dovetailing  themselves  into  the 
novel  situation  and  finding  mutual  pleas- 
ure in  the  process,  the  oldest  member  sat 
in  his  comfortable  room  in  the  citv  read- 

tf 

ing  his  newspaper  before  the  gas  log.  But 
neither  the  tariff  nor  the  potential  Chinese 
republic,  nor  even  the  inconsistencies  of 
presidential  candidates  had  power  to  in- 
terest him  to-night.  There  was  no  pleas- 
ure even  in  finding  fault  with  the  times! 
The  times  could  take  care  of  themselves. 


The  Absent  Member  99 

It  was  himself  that  caused  him  concern 
to-night.  The  rash  impulse  which  had 
made  him  promise  to  join  the  Christmas 
family  had  speedily  given  place  to  more 
prudent  afterthought.  What  would  he  do 
in  such  an  unfamiliar  proceeding?  The 
idea  was  absurd.  He  wondered  at  himself 
that  he  should  ever  have  entertained  it  for 
a  moment.  It  was  sufficiently  annoying, 
indeed,  to  have  Mrs.  Abbott  gone,  but, 
having  a  superstitious  veneration  for  the 
spoken  word,  he  had  not  seen  fit  to  retract 
his  permission  for  her  absence.  But  the 
empty  house  gave  him  an  unpleasant  feel- 
ing, almost  as  if  some  one  were  dead. 

He  had  dined  at  the  club,  an  indulgence 
he  occasionally  permitted  himself,  but 
there  had  been  little  that  was  heart-warm- 
ing in  the  process  to-night,  though  the 
dinner  was  excellent.  His  old  cronies 
were  mostly  absent.  Toward  Christmas 


100  Sylvia's  Experiment 

the  club  as  a  modern  substitute  for  a  home 
does  not  allure  the  middle-aged  and  old- 
fashioned.  He  had  come  away  more  or 
less  dissatisfied,  and  had  let  himself  into 
the  house  with  a  latch-key,  and  stumbled 
up-stairs  in  the  dark,  for  the  careless  maid 
had  gone  out,  and  forgot  to  light  the  hall 
gas.  His  own  rooms,  too,  had  been  dark, 
chill,  and  cheerless.  The  spirit  of  the 
house  was  fled,  taking  with  it  his  boasted 
comfort. 

In  between  the  pages  of  the  newspaper 
the  thought  of  the  Christmas  family  out  in 
Greendale  intervened.  He  found  himself 
wondering  what  they  were  doing.  In  par- 
ticular he  reflected  on  Professor  Lane. 
He  had  missed  Lane  at  the  club.  It  was 
a  queer  outlandish  thing  to  do  —  to  go 
and  spend  a  vacation  with  a  houseful  of 
strangers.  Well,  scientists  usually  were 
a  little  peculiar.  He  could  not  forget  the 


The  Absent  Member  101 

unusual  vehemence  in  the  Professor's  tone 
that  day  when  he  had  burst  out,  "  I  tell 
you,  it  is  at  Christmas  time  that  a  man 
realizes  how  lonely  he  is."  Lonely!  A 
man  had  no  business  to  be  lonely.  That 
was  for  sentimental  women  and  children. 

"  Miau  —  miau!"  came  a  faint  minor 
wail  from  somewhere  down-stairs. 

"Confound  that  cat!"  muttered  Mr. 
Mclntosh.  Nevertheless  he  experienced 
a  vague  satisfaction  of  spirit  at  this  proof 
that  he  was  not  the  only  thing  alive  in  the 
house.  He  turned  back  to  his  paper. 

"  Miau  —  miau  —  miau !  "  came  the  wail 
again,  this  time  nearer  and  more  insistent. 
Mr.  Mclntosh  rose  and  went  to  the  door, 
throwing  it  wide  open.  There  was  a  gen- 
tle pad,  padding  sound  of  approaching  fe- 
line feet,  and  a  ridiculously  soft  and  fluffy 
yellow  kitten  appeared  on  the  top  step  of 
the  stairway  surveying  Mr.  Mclntosh  in- 


102  Sylvia's  Experiment 

quiringly.  There  was  something  strangely 
pathetic  about  that  small  kitten,  bereft  of 
its  mistress,  and,  possibly,  supperless,  that 
struck  a  responsive  chord  somewhere  in 
the  heart  of  Mr.  Mclntosh.  Cat  and  man 
stared  at  each  other  a  moment. 

"  Well,"  remarked  the  latter,  as  gently 
as  his  gruff  voice  permitted.  "  Well,  are 
you  coming?  " 

Pussy  caught  the  note  of  acquiescence, 
if  not  ardent  hospitality,  in  his  voice,  and 
came  up  to  him,  rubbing  her  soft  yellow 
fluff  against  him  and  beginning  to  purr  — 
an  absurdly  loud  performance  as  emana- 
ting from  so  tiny  a  creature. 

"  Come  in,"  he  invited  politely,  and  she 
accepted  with  deliberate  graciousness. 
But  there  was  unrest  in  her  mood,  and 
she  prowled  about  the  room  so  uneasily 
that  her  host  caught  the  infection  and 
became  uneasy,  too. 


The  Absent  Member  103 

"  I  believe  you  are  hungry,"  he  an- 
nounced at  last.  Pussy  came  and  rubbed 
ingratiatingly  against  the  chair  legs  and 
looked  wistful.  "  On  my  soul,  I  believe 
you  are!"  he  added.  "It's  an  outrage!" 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  but  the  pathos 
in  Pussy's  eyes  decided  him.  The  creature 
was  hungry,  and  if  there  was  no  one  else 
in  the  house  to  feed  her,  why  he  must.  He 
shuffled,  slipper-footed,  to  the  door,  which 
he  opened  just  wide  enough  to  permit  his 
exit  and  then  closed  it  hastily,  lest  his  guest 
escape.  On  he  went  down-stairs,  switch- 
ing on  lights  as  he  went,  through  the  hall, 
into  the  dining-room,  on  into  the  kitchen, 
and,  finally,  into  the  pantry,  the  goal  of 
his  desires;  falling  over  furniture  as  he 
passed,  muttering  inarticulate  ejaculations 
that  in  a  less  devout  and  God-fearing 
Scotchman  would  have  come  out  full- 
fledged  oaths.  In  the  pantry  he  seized  a 


104  Sylvia's  Experiment 

pitcher  of  cream,  meant,  by  the  way,  for 
his  own  breakfast,  if  he  chose  to  take  it 
at  home.  Fumblingly,  too,  he  acquired  a 
bowl  and  made  off  with  his  prizes.  For- 
tunately the  trail  of  electric  light  he  had 
left  behind  him  saved  his  shins  and  his 
temper,  as  well  as  the  cream,  on  the  return 
trip,  and  he  was  able  at  last  to  reach  his 
own  room  with  no  serious  fatalities. 

Having  arrived,  he  looked  about  in 
some  anxiety  for  the  kitten  who  just  at 
first  appeared  invisible.  There  she  was, 
however,  perched  primly  on  the  desk.  As 
she  saw  the  dishes  she  leaped  down  with  a 
little  friendly  "  per-miau."  With  awkward 
care  Mr.  Mclntosh  deposited  the  bowl  on 
the  tiles  before  the  fire  and  poured  the 
cream  into  it.  Pussy  needed  no  verbal 
invitation  to  partake  of  the  feast.  She  fell 
to  with  gusto  and  did  not  cease  until  the 
bowl  was  as  clean  as  her  little  pink  tongue 


The  Absent  Member  105 

could  make  it,  her  host  watching  the  whole 
process  with  immense  satisfaction  the 
while.  Supper  over,  Pussy  sat  down  to 
make  an  elaborate  toilet  before  the  pleas- 
ant warmth  of  the  fire.  Her  feline  unrest 
was  completely  exorcised  and  she  fairly 
radiated  content  and  well-being,  as  she 
washed  and  smoothed  her  long  fur  into  an 
immaculate  state  of  perfection. 

Mr.  Mclntosh  felt  very  friendly  toward 
that  cat.  She  was  distinctly  superior  to 
the  general  run  of  cats.  Any  one  could  see 
that  with  half  an  eye.  Apparently  the  ap- 
proval was  mutual,  for  as  soon  as  the  toilet 
was  finished  Pussy  sprang  up  in  her  bene- 
factor's lap  and  after  a  series  of  meaning- 
less but  beatific  gyrations  and  revolutions 
she  curled  herself  up  with  a  little  drowsy, 
contented,  vibrating  buzz  of  purrs  and 
went  to  sleep. 

Perhaps  nobody  missed  Mr.  Mclntosh 


106  Sylvia's  Experiment 

so  very  much  at  the  other  house.  Sylvia 
wondered  now  and  then  out  loud  why  he 
had  not  come,  and  Mrs.  Abbott  had  to 
stifle  some  inner  qualms  occasionally  as  to 
his  state  of  well-being  and  comfort,  and 
Professor  Lane  expressed  the  hope  that 
the  morrow  would  bring  him,  as  he  knew 
no  one  save  himself  more  in  need  of  the 
benignant  influence  of  a  Christmas  family. 

"  I  wonder  why  he  didn't  come,"  puz- 
zled Sylvia  again,  conscience  troubled  at 
having  forced  anybody  into  the  hateful 
prison  house  of  hotel  existence. 

"Cold  feet,  probably,"  Phil  had  haz- 
arded, and  then  the  talk  drifted  to  other 
things,  and  nobody  suspected  that  the  ab- 
sent member  was  sitting  before  a  solitary 
hearth,  half  dozing,  half  dreaming,  with 
a  cream-fed,  yellow  kitten  in  his  lap. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

A   HAPPY   DAY 

IT  was  the  day  before  Christmas  and 
the  house  on  the  hill  was  filled  from 
cellar  to  garret  with  Christmas  se- 
crets and  Christmas  joy.  So  far  Sylvia's 
plan  had  worked  marvelously,  more  suc- 
cessfully than  she  had  dared  to  hope.  The 
days  had  gone  all  too  fast.  She  would 
have  liked  to  prolong  each  indefinitely, 
each  was  so  infinitely  desirable.  But,  alas, 
the  days  we  would  fain  put  weights  on  to 
keep  them  from  flying  away  too  fast  are 
the  very  ones  which  escape  us  with  breath- 
less rapidity  leaving  only  a  happy  memory 
in  their  place.  Still  there  is  always  to- 
morrow, which  will  be  perhaps  —  nay, 

107 


108  Sylvias  Experiment 

surely  better  even  than  yesterday  or  to- 
day, and  with  this  philosophy  Sylvia  was 
content. 

The  days  had  been  cram  full  of  fun  and 
business  and  excitement  as  well  as  much 
quiet  pleasure.  There  had  been  impromptu 
sleigh  rides,  shopping  excursions  into  the 
city,  a  fascinating  trip  into  the  winter 
woods  for  Christmas  greens,  the  inex- 
haustible delight  of  assisting  Aunt  Mandy 
in  the  preparation  of  the  Christmas  pud- 
ding and  other  culinary  mysteries.  There 
had  been  story-telling  hours  at  twilight 
with  the  children,  and  romps  outdoors  and 
within.  Best  of  all,  perhaps,  were  the  long 
pleasant  evenings  spent  in  cards  or  music 
or  listening  to  some  one  read  aloud  while 
the  rest  sewed  or  loafed  according  to  in- 
clination or  sex.  Sometimes  there  was 
just  talk,  when  the  conversation  drifted 
idly  and  happily  from  one  topic  to  an- 


A  Happy  Day  109 

other,  and  they  all  grew  very  intimate  and 
friendly  and  near  together,  as  if  they  had 
always  been  a  Christmas  family. 

There  were  two  members  missing  from 
the  circle,  the  boy,  who  had  never  entered 
the  family,  and  the  oldest  member,  who 
had  not  cared  to  claim  his  privileges  of 
membership.  Sylvia  had  received  a  stiff 
little  note  from  the  absent  member  stating 
that  press  of  business  prevented  his  ac- 
cepting her  invitation  for  the  present  —  a 
communication  which  first  made  its  recip- 
ient angry,  then  compassionate,  and,  fi- 
nally, indifferent.  She  was  far  too  busy 
and  happy  to  spend  many  precious  min- 
utes bewailing  the  absence  of  the  volun- 
tary exile. 

The  other  members  of  the  family  were 
incredibly  satisfactory.  So  far  from  ob- 
jecting to  Professor  Lane's  society,  Sylvia 
thanked  the  fates  and  Phil  Lorrimer  for 


110  Sylvia  s  Experiment 

having  bequeathed  him  to  them.  He  was 
an  addition  that  the  family  could  ill  have 
spared. 

And  now  it  was  the  day  before  Christ- 
mas, and  the  family  were  enjoying  a  dila- 
tory breakfast. 

;'  I  have  to  go  to  the  city/'  announced 
Doctor  Tom.  "  Any  errands,  Madame 
Mother?" 

Mrs.  Abbott  looked  up  quickly,  evi- 
dently hesitating  to  speak. 

"  Well,"  he  encouraged,  "  don't  spare 
me.  I  am  yours  to  command.  Is  it  cran- 
berries or  candelabra  or  crochet  needles?  " 
he  alliterated. 

"  It  is  cats,"  she  smiled  back,  unexpect- 
edly. 

"  Cats !  Do  we  have  to  go  to  the  city 
for  them?  I  had  a  notion  they  were  a 
local  product." 

"  Not  strictly  cats,  but  a  kitten.    I  can- 


A  Happy  Day  111 

not  rest  nights  for  thinking  of  poor  Fluff. 
Jane  was  to  run  in  every  day  to  see  to  Mr. 
Mclntosh's  rooms  and  feed  Fluff,  but  she 
is  so  careless  I  am  very  much  afraid  poor 
Fluff  will  fare  hard.  She  is  on  my  mind 
dreadfully." 

"  A  cat  on  the  mind  is  worth  two  in  the 
alley,"  he  parodied  gaily.  "  Never  fear, 
though,  Mrs.  Christmas  Mother,  we'll  get 
her  off  before  any  complications  set  in. 
Shall  I  acquire  her?  " 

"  Could  you?  Are  you  going  to  be  too 
busy?" 

"  Never  too  busy  to  deliver  a  damsel  in 
distress,"  gallantly.  "  It  will  afford  me 
much  pleasure  to  rescue  Miss  Puss.  Any- 
body coming  to  town  with  me?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  not  to-day,"  said  Sylvia. 
"  We  are  all  too  busy.  Phil  and  I  have  an 
engagement  first  thing  this  morning  to 
make  a  snow  man.  'Lizbeth  and  Mari- 


112  Sylvias  Experiment 

anna  never  saw  one.  Then  we  have  to 
make  candy  and  string  popcorn  for  the 
tree  and  tend  to  other  things  which  cir- 
cumstances forbid  my  mentioning  in  de- 
tail." 

"  Evidently  I  am  doomed  to  a  solitary 
journey.  You  needn't  be  so  cocky  about 
your  old  secrets.  I  know  some  that  would 
make  your  hair  stand  perpendicular." 

Gradually  they  separated.  Doctor  Tom 
to  the  city,  the  Professor  to  a  learned 
book,  Mrs.  Abbott  to  the  kitchen  for  a 
secret  conclave  with  Aunt  Mandy,  and 
Mrs.  Emory  to  some  painting  she  was 
doing  for  Sylvia,  while  the  youngsters  and 
the  babies  repaired  to  the  yard,  furred  and 
cloaked  and  capped.  It  was  the  beauty  of 
the  household  that  everybody  followed  his 
own  desire  for  the  moment  and  no  ques- 
tions asked.  There  was  no  attempt  to  en- 
tertain anybody.  And  perhaps  this  was 


A  Happy  Day  113 

what  made  it  so  truly  a  Christmas  family, 
to  the  manor  born. 

Sylvia  stood  off  to  survey  their  statuary 
with  critical  eyes. 

"  Phil,"  she  cried  suddenly.  "  I  do  be- 
lieve he  looks  like  Santa  Claus!" 

"  Right  you  are.  I  believe  he  does. 
Clever  of  the  old  chap,  isn't  it?  " 

Then  simultaneously  an  idea  dawned  in 
the  faces  of  both. 

"Let's  make  it  a  Santa!"  cried  Sylvia. 
"  Children,  would  you  like  that?  " 

"  Wiv  wanedeer?"  questioned  Mari- 
anna,  always  strong  on  local  color. 

Phil  whistled. 

"  Some  heap  big  order,"  he  observed. 
"  What  do  you  say,  Syl?  I'm  game,  if  you 
are." 

"  Let's  try,"  said  Sylvia  enthusiastically. 
"  It  would  be  great  to  have  Santa  and  his 
sleigh  and  reindeer.  Come  on-" 


114  Sylvias  Experiment 

They  set  to  work  with  a  will,  the  chil- 
dren bringing  great  piles  of  loose  snow 
while  the  others  worked  at  the  modeling. 
Phil's  inventive  genius,  evolved,  with  the 
aid  of  a  box,  a  fairly  recognizable  sleigh, 
into  which  they  transferred  the  head  and 
upper  part  of  the  body  of  the  original  gen- 
tleman, dismembering  him  ruthlessly. 
Perhaps  he  resented  the  process,  for  he 
insisted  on  losing,  in  the  transformation, 
whatever  resemblance  he  ever  possessed 
to  the  jolly  old  saint. 

"  Surly  beggar!  "  commented  Phil.  "  I 
say,  look  pleasant,  please.  Moisten  the 
upper  lip  a  trifle."  But  the  offended  gen- 
tleman refused  to  see  the  joke  and  re- 
mained as  icily  morose  of  aspect  as  be- 
fore, in  spite  of  all  efforts  to  change  his 
expression  for  one  more  befitting  the  oc- 
casion and  the  part. 

"  Oh,  dear,"  sighed  Sylvia.     "  He  gets 


A  Happy  Day  115 

worse  and  worse.  I  am  afraid  sculpturing 
is  not  our  forte.  I  wish  —  I  have  it.  Ma- 
rianna,  will  you  run  and  ask  mother  to 
come  out?  " 

And  presently  Mrs.  Emory  came  out, 
looking  very  pretty  with  her  fair  hair 
peeping  out  from  the  blue  hood  of  Mari- 
anna's  which  she  had  slipped  on.  It  was 
onlv  a  bit  added  here  and  a  bit  taken  off 

mf 

there,  a  curve  or  an  angle  changed  by  her 
skilful  fingers,  a  gentle  patting  and  poking 
and  smoothing,  but  the  effect  was  marvel- 
ous. The  children  fairly  screamed  with 
delighted  recognition  of  their  favorite,  and 
hopped  up  and  down  in  the  snow,  crying 
that  it  was  just  exactly  like  the  Santy  in 
the  red  Christmas  book.  Mrs.  Emory  set 
the  equally  enthusiastic  Sylvia  and  Phil  to 
work  on  the  reindeer,  and  they  modeled 
the  rough  outlines  of  two  creatures  which 
Phil  declared  were  a  cross  between  a  zebra 


116  Sylvia's  Experiment 

and  a  Jack  rabbit,  and  which  Sylvia  in- 
sisted were  the  image  of  some  mythical 
monster  she  had  seen  in  some  book.  They 
caught  the  Professor  peeping  out  the  win- 
dow at  them  and  beckoned  to  him  so 
wildly  that  he  joined  the  group  and  was 
able  to  give  them  some  really  valuable 
suggestions  as  to  the  anatomical  structure 
of  reindeer,  while  the  little  folk  pirouetted 
about  in  high  glee.  Even  Elizabeth's 
tongue  was  loosened  by  the  excitement  of 
the  occasion,  and  she  chattered  like  a  little 
monkey.  When  it  came  to  the  really  artis- 
tic part  of  the  performance,  the  fine  chis- 
eling, the  amateurs  retired,  leaving  the 
finishing  touches  to  Mrs.  Emory's  experi- 
enced hands.  And  then  it  was  that  the 
gay  span  began  really  to  look  like  their 
prototypes,  to  the  great  delight  and  appro- 
bation of  the  company. 

Just  as  Marianna  raised  a  shout  of  mirth 


A  Happy  Day  117 

by  declaring  seriously  that  these  were  not 
reindeer  at  all  but  snowdeer,  Doctor  Tom 
drove  into  the  yard  and  joined  the  admir- 
ing group. 

"Who  is  the  artist?"  he  demanded. 
"  I  insist  on  knowing  which  limb  of  the 
family  tree  is  sprouting  this  particular 
branch  of  art?  " 

"  Felicia !  "  said  Sylvia. 

"  Sylvia !  "  said  Mrs.  Emory  simultane- 
ously. 

'''  Felicia,  don't  tarradiddle.  It  isn't 
seemly  for  your  big  sistership.  We  just 
made  lumps  of  snow.  You  created.  It  is 
a  marvel,  isn't  it,  Doctor  Tom?" 

:<  It  sure  is.  Surely  you  must  have  tried 
your  hand  at  the  real  thing?"  he  asked 
Mrs.  Emory. 

"  Yes,  I  have  done  more  or  less  of  it," 
she  acknowledged.  "  I  studied  several 
years  in  Paris  before  I  was  married." 


118  Sylvias  Experiment 

"  I  thought  so."  He  remembered  the 
bits  Sylvia  had  told  him  about  her  past 
life.  She  had  been  brought  up  by  a 
wealthy  and  somewhat  eccentric  aunt  in 
luxury  and  with  every  advantage  for  cul- 
ture and  training.  At  twenty-three  she 
had  married  against  the  will  of  her  aunt, 
who  promptly  cut  her  out  of  her  will  and 
died  before  she  could  change  her  mind. 
For  four  years  of  ideally  happy  married 
life  she  had  sacrificed  wealth,  career  and, 
indeed,  all  of  her  old  life.  So  she  had  stud- 
ied in  Paris,  had  perhaps  intended  seri- 
ously to  make  sculpture  her  life  work !  A 
woman  with  a  gift  like  that,  who  could 
model  so  wonderfully  even  in  snow,  was 
condemned  to  the  everlasting  painting  of 
place  cards  and  such  trash !  It  was  a  queer 
world.  Doctor  Tom  stood  contemplating 
the  snow  figure  with  unusual  gravity  of 
expression.  He  had  a  problem  of  his  own 


A  Happy  Day  119 

to  settle  these  days,  and  Mrs.  Emory  was 
unconsciously  throwing  some  new  lights 
upon  it. 

"Mi-au!"  wailed  a  rather  stifled  but 
insistent  feline  voice,  and  he  turned  back 
to  the  sleigh  with  a  laugh. 

"Heavens!  I  forgot  the  cat!  Rescue 
her,  Sylvia!  Here  —  take  the  basket.  I'll 
take  Tim  around  to  the  stable.  Phil,  may  I 
borrow  your  services?  I  don't  want  these 
curious  females  to  feel  my  packages." 

"  My,  what  a  duck  of  a  cat !  "  exclaimed 
Sylvia  somewhat  paradoxically,  as  she 
opened  the  basket  in  the  house  and  per- 
mitted Miss  Fluff  to  make  a  dignified  exit 
therefrom. 

"  She  doesn't  look  thin  at  all,"  cried 
Mrs.  Abbott,  who  had  hurried  in  to  judge 
of  the  welfare  of  her  pet.  "  Jane  must 
have  been  more  faithful  than  I  gave  her 
credit  for." 


120  Sylvia's  Experiment 

Naturally  she  had  no  means  of  knowing 
that  the  kitten's  sleek  and  self-satisfied 
appearance  was  due  not  to  the  faithful- 
ness of  Jane  so  much  as  to  the  unremitting 
attentions  and  ministrations  of  Mr.  Angus 
R.  Mclntosh. 

"Anyway,"  added  Mrs.  Abbott,  "it  is 
a  real  relief  to  have  her  here  under  my 
eye,  thanks  to  Doctor  Tom's  kindness." 

The  kitten  surveyed  her  new  environ- 
ment a  bit  superciliously,  but  apparently 
found  it  on  the  whole  satisfactory,  for  she 
proceeded  to  select  the  softest  chair  in  the 
room  and  settled  herself  therein  with  a 
little  mild  vocal  demonstration  of  content. 
The  journey  had  been  exhausting  and 
damage  must  be  at  once  repaired  by  a 
beauty  sleep. 

"Hello,  everybody!"  called  Phil. 
"  Aunt  Mandy  sent  me  to  tell  you  that 
dinner  would  be  on  the  table  in  three  min- 


A  Happy  Day  121 

utes,   and  that  you  all   had  better  hurry 
before  it  got  cold." 

Whereupon  every  one  scattered  to  make 
a  hasty  toilet,  for  Aunt  Mandy's  dictates 
were  not  to  be  ignored. 


CHAPTER    IX 

A   LONESOME   MAN 

MR.  McINTOSH  came  home  to 
prepare  to  go  out  to  dinner, 
and  the  maid  met  him  in  the 
hall. 

"  Please,  sir,  the  kitten's  gone,"  she  an- 
nounced. 

"  Gone!  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  let 
her  out,  after  all  I've  said?"  testily,  to 
cover  the  dismay  in  his  heart. 

"  Oh,  no,  sir.  I  watched  her  real  faith- 
ful. A  man  took  her." 

"  A  man !  "  he  snorted.  "  What  sort  of 
a  man?  " 

"  The  tallest  man  I  ever  saw,  and  with 
the  all-firedest  red  hair.  Mrs.  Abbott  sent 
him." 

122 


A  Lonesome  Man  123 

The  heart  of  Mr.  Mclntosh  sank  as  his 
anger  abated.  Of  course  there  was  no 
objection  to  Mrs.  Abbott's  sending  for  her 
own  cat.  She  couldn't  know  how  lonely 
—  Pshaw!  The  empty  house  was  getting 
on  his  nerves.  He  must  get  away.  The 
house  would  be  unendurable  without  the 
cat.  He  went  on  up-stairs  and  switched 
on  the  lights  and  lit  the  fire.  But  the 
illumination  seemed  garish  not  cosy.  He 
was  conscious  of  an  absurdly  strong  desire 
to  see  the  cat  stretched  out  comfortably 
before  the  fire.  But  there  was  no  cat.  He 
was  alone.  He  flung  himself  into  a  chair 
with  his  head  thrown  wearily  back,  forget- 
ting, for  the  moment,  that  he  had  had  no 
dinner.  Opposite  hung  the  portrait  of  his 
mother,  the  plain  face  with  the  kind,  tired 
eyes.  To-night  they  seemed  to  him  to 
take  on  a  pitiful  yearning  look,  as  if  she 
were  sorry  for  him.  Well,  why  not?  He 


124  Sylvia  s  Experiment 

was  a  bit  sorry  for  himself.  He  might  as 
well  face  it.  He  was  old  and  tired  and 
lonely.  And  to-morrow  was  Christmas. 

He  remembered  that  once  his  mother 
had  said  to  him,  "  Angus,  my  boy,  a  man 
makes  or  mars  his  own  life.  No  one  can 
do  either  for  him."  Was  it  possible  he 
wondered,  that  he  had  been  marring  his, 
all  these  years  that  he  thought  he  had  been 
making  it  and  had  been  so  proud  of  his 
success?  Was  it  because  he  had  marred 
instead  of  making  that  he  was  alone  to- 
night, this  Christmas  eve?  He  rose  heav- 
ily, shaking  himself  as  a  big  Newfound- 
land shakes  himself  on  coming  out  of  the 
water,  as  if  to  rid  himself  of  the  weight 
of  such  heavy  and  unprofitable  thoughts. 
He  went  about  his  preparations  to  move 
over  to  a  neighboring  hotel.  The  empty 
house  had  become  a  nightmare  to  which 
even  a  hotel  was  preferable.  At  last  he 


A  Lonesome  Man  125 

turned  off  the  fire  and  lights,  and,  hand- 
bag in  hand,  descended  the  stairs.  Jane, 
too,  was  just  going  out,  and  he  called  to 
her. 

"  I  shall  not  return  until  Mrs.  Abbott 
does,"  he  informed  her  abruptly. 

:(  But  she  ain't  a-coming  for  more'n  a 
week,"  protested  the  girl. 

"  Neither  am  I,"  curtly. 

"  Oh,  very  well,  sir.  Good  night.  I 
hope  you  will  have  a  merry  Christmas." 

He  muttered  an  incoherent  response 
and  slipped  a  bill  into  her  hands  and  de- 
parted, leaving  her  gasping,  for  she  had 
more  than  once  heard  his  views  on  the 
folly  of  tipping  expounded. 

Dinner  somewhat  mitigated  the  gloom 
of  Mr.  Mclntosh's  outlook.  No  situation 
is  ever  as  desperate  with  a  full  stomach  as 
with  an  empty  one.  The  city  was  very 
lively  to-night  with  flying  carriages  and 


126  Sylvia's  Experiment 

automobiles  and  gay  crowds  of  pedestri- 
ans in  the  streets.  Blithe  good  humor  and 
comradeship  were  in  the  air.  The  evening 
was  young  as  yet,  and  Mr.  Mclntosh 
racked  his  brain  for  the  least  obnoxious 
way  of  killing  the  hours  until  bedtime. 
Another  man  would  have  chosen  the  thea- 
tre as  a  refuge  from  boredom,  but  he  char- 
acteristically chose  work.  There  were 
some  papers  at  the  office  that  he  had  not 
been  able  to  find  time  for  during  the  day. 
They  would  easily  keep,  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  they  would  easily  fill  in  an  eve- 
ning. 

He  hailed  a  passing  street  car,  for,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  his  income  had  for 
many  years  been  rolling  up  ciphers  to  the 
left  of  the  decimal  point,  the  lifelong  habit 
of  economy  was  still  so  strong  that  he 
never  thought  of  indulging  in  any  more 
luxurious  means  of  transportation.  He 


A  Lonesome  Man  127 

had  to  transfer  to  another  car-line  after 
a  ten-minute  ride,  to  reach  the  office,  but 
instead  of  waiting  for  the  belated  car  he 
walked  on,  finding  a  certain  refreshment 
in  the  crisp,  cold  air. 

This  was  a  very  different  part  of  the  city 
from  that  which  he  had  left.  There  were 
gay  crowds  here  too,  but  instead  of  being 
in  taxi-cabs  and  broughams  they  went 
a-foot,  went  to  music-halls  and  moving- 
picture  shows  instead  of  to  opera  and  ball- 
room. The  cheapness  of  the  manner  and 
the  finery  of  the  women,  the  shrillness  of 
their  voices  and  the  boldness  of  their  faces 
jarred  upon  Mr.  Mclntosh  unspeakably. 
He  supposed  they  were  no  worse  than 
their  sisters  up-town,  but  they  looked 
worse.  How  it  all  would  have  shocked 
and  saddened  his  mother! 

His  course  was  suddenly  impeded  by  a 
good-natured,  boisterous  crowd  elbowing 


128  Sylvias  Experiment 

its  way  into  a  cheap  amusement  hall. 
This  was  the  way  the  people  spent  their 
Christmas  eve.  The  thought  disgusted, 
nauseated  him.  He  made  an  impatient 
movement  to  get  past,  but  in  vain.  The 
crowd  closed  in,  blocking  his  steps. 

"Soak  'em,  mister!  Use  your  elbows," 
advised  a  boyish  voice  at  his  side,  a  voice 
which  sounded  strangely  familiar.  He 
turned  quickly  and  saw  that  his  neighbor 
in  the  swaying,  jostling  crowd  was  Gus, 
his  office  boy.  Their  eyes  met,  the  man's 
stern  with  the  spirit  of  his  godly  cove- 
nanting ancestors,  the  boy's,  surprised, 
amused. 

"  Gee,  boss !  Never  s'posed  I'd  spot  you 
here,"  he  announced  cheerfully,  and  with 
boyish  indifference  to  distinctions  after 
office  hours. 

"  Young  man,  do  you  realize  that  place 
in  there  is  a  den  of  iniquity?  "  Mr.  Mcln- 


A  Lonesome  Man  129 

tosh  ignored  the  pleasantry.  There  was 
righteous  indignation  in  his  tones. 

The  boy  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  a 
quick  expressive  gesture,  which  betrayed 
his  foreign  descent  in  spite  of  his  Ameri- 
can vocabulary. 

"  It's  not  so  bad,"  he  volunteered, 
"  'ceptin'  the  air.  That's  rotten." 

"  This  is  Christmas  eve.  And  you  were 
going  to  spend  it  in  a  place  like  that?" 
pursued  his  mentor,  severely. 

To  his  satisfaction  the  lad  crimsoned 
and  looked  manifestly  abashed.  Evi- 
dently he  was  not  wholly  given  over  to 
the  Mammon  of  unrighteousness  if  he  had 
still  the  grace  to  be  ashamed. 

"Wa'n't  goin',"  muttered  the  boy  half 
sullenly.  "  Got  caught  in  the  crowd,  same 
as  you." 

Mr.  Mclntosh  surveyed  him  sharply 
from  under  knitted  brows  to  see  if  this 


130  Sylvia's  Experiment 

was  truth  or  fiction.  If  he  had  no  such 
degenerate  intent,  why  the  embarrass- 
ment? 

"Where  were  you  going?"  he  de- 
manded. 

"  Office,"  laconically.  "  Forgot  to  do 
somethin'." 

"What?" 

"  Lock  the  windows,"  desperately. 

"  The  janitor  sees  to  that.  Don't  lie  to 
me."  He  pulled  the  lad  back  out  of  the 
crowd,  not  roughly  but  firmly.  "  Now, 
then,  tell  me  the  truth.  Why  were  you 
going  to  the  office,  if  you  really  were  go- 
ing?" 

A  sudden  swift  motion  on  the  part  of  his 
companion  revealed  what  Mr.  Mclntosh 
had  not  hitherto  been  aware  of,  namely 
that  he  carried  under  his  arm  a  violin  case. 

"  I  was  goin'  to  play  this,"  the  lad  burst 
out,  half  cowed,  half  defiant. 


A  Lonesome  Man  131 

For  once  Mr.  Mclntosh  was  discon- 
certed and  struck  dumb  with  astonish- 
ment. 

"  I  lied  before,"  went  on  his  companion. 
"  I  ain't  lyin'  now.  It's  the  truth.  I've 
been  there  lots  of  evenings  to  play.  I 
didn't  ever  ask,  for  fear  you  wouldn't  like 
it,  and  then  there  wouldn't  be  any  place. 
I  had  to  play.  I've  got  ter,"  he  reiterated 
fiercely. 

The  man  rallied  a  little. 

"Why  don't  you  play  at  home?"  he 
asked. 

"Home!  Hain't  got  no  home.  A  lot 
of  us  fellers  live  together  like  rats  'n  a  hole. 
'Tain't  a  home.  If  I  was  to  play  there, 
they'd  kill  me.  They'd  stand  for  a  little 
rag  time  maybe,  the  kind  they  have  in 
there,"  with  a  contemptuous  nod  at  the 
music-hall  before  whose  portal  they  stood. 
"  But  if  I  was  ter  play  the  kind  I've  got 


132  Sylvia's  Experiment 

ter  play  —  the  kind  that's  in  me  —  do  yer 
s'pose  they'd  put  up  with  it?  Not  on  your 
life!" 

Mr.  Mclntosh  was  once  more  reduced  to 
silence.  His  hitherto  well-ordered  and 
circumspect  order  of  universe  spun  like 
a  top.  He  had  never  fathomed  the  mys- 
teries of  the  artistic  temperament,  perhaps 
had  never  heard  of  it,  but  to  his  credit  be 
it  said  he  understood  the  thing  when  it 
presented  itself  vitally  before  him.  He  re- 
spected the  other  human  being's  right  and 
necessity  for  self-expression  —  to  play  the 
music  that  was  in  him.  Perhaps  on  the 
eve  of  the  anniversary  of  Christ's  birth 
our  visions  are  clarified,  our  intuitions 
deeper  and  sweeter  than  on  ordinary  days. 
At  any  rate,  Angus  Mclntosh  showed  un- 
precedented grace  of  comprehension  at 
this  moment.  His  office  boy,  like  the  kit- 
ten, had  become  a  personage.  He  must 


A  Lonesome  Man  133 

be  given  his  chance,  somehow.  Mr.  Mc- 
Intosh  saw  that  as  clearly  as  he  had  seen 
the  kitten's  need  of  food,  and  here,  too, 
he  recognized  the  responsibility  devolving 
upon  himself  and  faced  it  like  a  dutiful 
Scotchman. 

He  must  take  the  boy  away  from  the 
street.  He  must  take  him  home.  Home! 
Suddenly  he  realized  that  he  was  poor. 
He  had  no  home  to  take  anybody  to,  even 
himself.  He,  too,  was  an  outcast.  In  his 
dismay  a  new  thought  came  like  an  angel 
of  deliverance.  The  Christmas  family! 
One  door  was  open  to  him  to-night,  and 
he  had  been  bidden  bring  another  with 
him  if  he  chose.  Why  not? 

He  scrutinized  his  companion  so  keenly 
under  the  glaring  electric  light  that  the 
boy  wriggled  and  would  fain  have  fled  had 
it  not  been  for  the  detaining  hand  which 
had  not  left  his  shoulder.  He  did  not 


134  Sylvia's  Experiment 

know  that  so  far  from  meditating  dire 
vengeance  upon  him  his  employer  was 
merely  questioning  his  fitness  for  the 
Christmas  family  and  summing  him  up 
as  follows,  "  Clean,  apparently  respecta- 
ble, honest." 

"Gus,"  said  Mr.  Mclntosh  at  last,  "I 
am  going  into  the  country  to  spend  Christ- 
mas. Will  you  come  along?  " 

This  time  it  was  the  boy's  universe  that 
reeled. 

"  I  say,  are  you  dippy  or  just  jossin'?  ': 
he  queried,  though  he  knew  his  employer 
was  not  given  to  either  insanity  or  jest. 

"  Certainly  not.  I  am' perfectly  serious. 
I  have  been  invited  to  spend  Christmas 
out  in  Greendale  on  the  strength  of  my 
being  a  lonely  homeless  individual.  I  was 
instructed  to  invite  somebody  else  in  a 
similar  plight.  It  occurs  to  me  that  you 
about  fill  the  bill.  Will  you  come?  " 


A  Lonesome  Man  135 

"When?" 

"  To-night." 

"To-night!    Gee!" 

"  Certainly.  Will  it  take  you  long  to 
get  ready?  " 

The  boy  grinned. 

"  Not  so  that  you'd  notice  it.  Never 
takes  me  long  to  pack  my  dress  suit.  My 
quarters  are  just  around  the  corner.  But 
sure  you're  jokin'.  They  wouldn't  like  me 
to  come,"  he  puzzled,  accentuating  the 
second  pronoun. 

"  They  told  me  to  bring  a  friend." 

"  But  I  ain't  your  friend,"  expostulated 
the  boy. 

"Aren't  you?  I  hoped  you  would  be. 
I  was  hoping  you  would  help  me  out." 
There  was  a  genial  warmth  about  the  gen- 
tleman and  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes  which 
was  new  to  his  office  boy.  Gus  capitulated 
promptly  to  it. 


136  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"  Sure  thing,  boss,"  he  agreed  heartily. 
"  Shake  on  it.  You  wait  here.  I'll  be  back 
in  a  jiffy.  Here,  you  hold  this." 

Thrusting  the  instrument  into  his  newly 
sworn-in  friend's  hands  Gus  darted  off 
under  the  electric  lights  on  the  corner, 
leaving  Mr.  Mclntosh  with  strange  sen- 
sations as  well  as  a  violin.  This  was  a 
queer  business  he  had  let  himself  in  for 
—  a  distinctly  sentimental  business,  too. 
But  somehow  that  loathed  epithet  had  no 
terrors  at  the  moment.  Why  not  indulge 
in  a  little  sentimentality  by  way  of  vaca- 
tion relaxation  and  change?  Surely  he 
could  afford  that  after  years  of  stern  ad- 
herence to  the  prosaic  and  common-sense 
basis  of  action.  He  felt  strangely  exhil- 
arated and  happy  like  a  boy.  The  age  and 
weariness  and  gloom  of  the  early  part  of 
the  evening  dropped  off  of  him  like  a  husk. 
Oddly  enough  he  had  no  scruples  as  to 


A  Lonesome  Man  137 

the  welcome  which  would  be  accorded 
them.  No  Arden  was  ever  a  snob.  The 
only  requisite  was  loneliness,  and  that  he 
and  the  boy  alike  possessed  in  full  meas- 
ure. 

He  looked  at  his  watch  and  realized 
with  a  start  of  dismay  that  it  was  already 
eight-thirty.  The  last  train  for  Greendale 
left  at  eight-fifteen.  His  heart  sank  like 
a  school-boy's  who  had  been  foiled  of  a 
promised  treat.  Then  he  smiled.  He  tore 
into  a  neighboring  drug-store,  with  the 
violin  still  under  his  arm,  and  telephoned 
the  taxi-cab  stand.  "  Yes,  right  away." 
"  Corner  of  Green  and  Sixth."  "  Yes,  two 
passengers."  "  Hotel  Argyle  first,  then  to 
Greendale."  "Ten  dollars?  What  of  it? 
He  didn't  care  if  it  cost  fifty  —  only  send 
that  cab  at  once." 


CHAPTER    X 

THE   CHRISTMAS    TREE 

AT  the  hour  when  Mr.  Mclntosh 
was  hastening,  in  the  company  of 
his  recently  elected  friend,  late 
his  office  boy,  to  the  bosom  of  the  Christ- 
mas family,  with  all  convenient  speed  and 
regardless  of  expense,  the  family  itself, 
excepting  its  three  youngest  members, 
was  very  busy  on  its  own  account.  These 
three  youngest  members  had  hung  up 
their  stockings,  with  due  care  and  cere- 
mony, before  the  fireplace  and  had  gone 
off  to  bed  somewhat  reluctantly,  but  con- 
soled by  the  consciousness  that  only  so 
could  the  rites  of  Santa  Claus  be  admin- 
istered. They  were  too  well  brought  up 

138 


The  Christmas  Tree  139 

not  to  know  that  the  wise  old  saint  never 
stopped  at  the  chimneys  of  the  children 
whose  naughty  eyes  refused  to  close  in 
slumber  on  Christmas  eve.  Marianna  had 
declared  that  she  never  —  no,  never  — 
could  go  to  sleep,  but  she  would  keep  her 
eyes  tight  shut  —  truly,  she  would  —  and 
never  peep  a  tiniest  bit,  nor  listen  any 
more  than  she  could  help  for  Santa's  bells. 
But  fifteen  minutes  after  her  mother  had 
tucked  her  away  in  the  little  white  bed, 
the  forget-me-not  eyes  were  shut  tight, 
indeed,  and  only  in  dreams  did  she  hear 
the  prancing  reindeer  and  the  merry  jan- 
gle of  bells.  Brother  had  succumbed  an 
hour  earlier  to  the  seductions  of  the  sand- 
man, but  Elizabeth  lay  long  awake,  too 
happy  and  excited  to  follow  the  example 
of  the  others. 

Not  that  she  believed  in  the  coming  of 
Santa  Claus!    A  too  sophisticated  cousin 


140  Sylvia's  Experiment 

had  long  since  destroyed  her  illusions  on 
that  score.  But  no  torture  could  have 
dragged  her  to  betray  the  pleasure  of  the 
younger  children  in  their  cherished  myth, 
for  she  remembered  only  too  well  how 
painful  had  been  her  own  awakening  to 
reality  from  happy  ignorance. 

She  had  had  far  too  few  gratifications 
of  wishes  in  her  brief  career  to  dare  to 
expect  overmuch  on  the  morrow.  She  was 
far  from  anticipating  the  wealth  the  tree 
down-stairs  would  bear  on  its  generous 
branches  for  her.  She  did  hope  softly  to 
herself  that  there  would  be  just  one  doll 
—  a  really,  truly,  just-born  dolly.  So  far, 
her  children  had  fallen  to  her  by  right  of 
inheritance  as  their  original  parents  out- 
grew or  discarded  them.  Her  mother  in- 
stinct was  sufficiently  strong  to  cause  her 
to  devote  herself  faithfully  to  these 
adopted  offspring,  battered  and  mutilated 


The  Christmas  Tree  141 

as  they  often  were.  But  always  in  her 
heart  she  had  yearned  for  just  one  child 
all  her  own  to  love  and  care  for. 

But  even  this  pleasant  little  dream  was 
not  the  chief  cause  of  Elizabeth's  wakeful- 
ness  to-night.  It  was  something  far,  far 
bigger  —  a  hope  so  big,  so  wonderful,  so 
beautiful  that  it  made  her  hold  her  breath. 
Sylvia  had  said  that  little  girls  with 
crooked  backs  sometimes  got  well  and 
strong  and  straight  like  other  people,  that 
the  doctors  gave  them  something  to  put 
them  to  sleep  and  when  they  woke  up 
again  they  were  very  weak  and  sick,  but 
not  crooked  any  more.  "Not  crooked! 
Not  crooked !  Not  crooked ! "  sang  her 
heart  over  and  over.  Oh,  she  mustn't  be- 
lieve it  —  not  yet.  Sylvia  had  told  her  not 
to  hope  too  much,  until  after  Doctor  Tom 
and  the  other  doctors  had  looked  at  her 
back  with  a  queer  machine  that  let  them 


142  Sylvias  Experiment 

see  into  people's  bodies  the  way  God  sees 
into  their  souls.  The  day  after  Christmas 
they  would  do  it,  Sylvia  had  promised, 
and  then,  if  the  doctors  thought  they 
could  cure  her,  in  a  few  days  they  would 
put  her  to  sleep  and  perhaps  —  just  per- 
haps —  when  she  woke  up  she  would  be 
straight  like  Marianna  and  Sylvia  and  all 
the  rest  of  the  world. 

On  the  wall  opposite  Elizabeth's  bed 
hung  a  picture.  It  was  dark  and  she 
couldn't  see  it  to-night  with  her  bodily 
eyes,  but  she  did  not  need  to  see  it  that 
way.  She  knew  it  by  heart.  It  was  a  pic- 
ture of  a  man,  straight  and  tall,  with  beau- 
tiful, gentle  eyes  and  a  look  in  them  some- 
thing like  the  way  Auntie  Felicia  looked 
at  Brother  sometimes  when  he  was  asleep. 
And  there  were  crowds  of  children  all 
about  Him,  big  and  little,  pretty  and  plain. 
The  man  smiled  and  held  out  His  hands 


The  Christmas  Tree  143 

to  them  and  they  seemed  to  be  drawing 
nearer  and  nearer  all  the  time  to  those 
kind  outstretched  arms.  Very  close  be- 
side Him  was  a  little,  little  boy  with  a  face 
like  an  angel  and  a  poor  crooked,  twisted 
little  figure,  and  Elizabeth  fancied  always 
that  the  man's  smile  was  especially  tender 
for  the  little  humpback,  and  that  He  had 
called  him  near  on  purpose  because  He 
loved  and  pitied  him. 

The  picture  had  comforted  Elizabeth 
ever  since  she  first  saw  it.  Of  course  she 
had  heard  all  her  life  that  Christ  loved  lit- 
tle children,  but  somehow  she  had  fancied 
vaguely  that  it  was  the  beautiful,  straight, 
golden-haired,  blue-eyed  children  that  He 
would  naturally  love  best  —  children  like 
Marianna,  not  little  crooked,  homely  ones 
like  herself,  with  cropped  hair  and  dark 
eyes.  Elizabeth  adored  beauty,  and  did 
not  blame  any  one  for  making  distinctions 


144  Sylvia's  Experiment 

along  this  line.  It  was  only  too  natural. 
But  if  this  picture  were  true,  He  cared  for 
the  little  humpback,  too,  —  perhaps  more 
even  than  the  others.  It  made  her  feel  all 
different  and  made  over  when  she  saw 
that.  If  this  were  so,  then  He  must  love 
her,  too,  and  if  He  loved  her,  of  course  He 
would  be  glad  to  have  her  be  made 
straight.  She  wouldn't  mind  about  eyes 
or  hair  if  only  she  needn't  be  crooked  any 
more. '  Surely  if  she  asked  Christ  He 
would  tell  God  to  let  them  cure  her.  A 
queer  little  inarticulate  prayer  filled  her 
heart,  and  then,  strangely  comforted  and 
happy,  she  fell  asleep,  secure  in  her  child 
faith. 

Down-stairs  there  was  a  magic.  A 
large  handsome  hemlock  tree  had  been  set 
up  in  the  library,  in  front  of  the  bay  win- 
dow. A  very  large  and  handsome  tree  it 
had  been,  indeed,  but  not  distinguished  in 


The  Christmas  Tree  145 

any  particular  from  a  host  of  other  trees 
as  it  had  stood  in  the  forest.  But  then 
had  come  the  magic,  and  the  ordinary, 
large,  handsome  hemlock  had  been  trans- 
formed into  a  fairy  spectacle,  all  silver 
tinsel  and  tiny  bells  and  stars  and  shim- 
mering crystal  icicles,  and  iridescent  balls 
and  strings  of  popcorn  and  gold  paper 
chains.  There  were  no  candles,  although 
Sylvia  had  yearned  for  them  for  old  time's 
sake.  But  Christmas  candles  are  fast  going 
the  way  of  fire-crackers  and  other  danger- 
ous delights,  and  the  Christmas  Mother, 
who  had  a  mortal  horror  of  fire,  had 
begged  for  the  omission.  An  up-to-date, 
if  less  mysteriously  charming,  substitute 
had  been  arranged  by  Phil,  however,  and 
tiny,  airy,  fairy  little  electric  light  bulbs 
hung  here  and  there  amid  the  deep  green 
of  the  branches. 

But  this  was  only  the  beginning  of  the 


146  Sylvia's  Experiment 

magic.  Next  came  the  presents,  such 
piles  and  piles  of  them,  tissue-papered,  be- 
ribboned,  gorgeous  with  seals  and  tags, 
besides  the  numerous  other  treasures 
which  were  to  dangle  fascinatingly  un- 
wrapped from  the  branches  and  add  to 
the  festivity  of  the  appearance  of  that  once 
merely  handsome  tree.  These  last  were 
chiefly  to  delight  the  eyes  of  the  children, 
gay  tarlatan  candy-bags,  dainty  paper 
dollies,  wooly  lambs,  balls  and  horns  and 
gaudy  picture-books,  and  all  sorts  of 
funny  or  pretty  toys. 

Beneath  the  tree  —  for  there  were  limits 
to  even  its  capacious  boughs  —  was  ar- 
ranged the  rest  of  the  Christmas  offering, 
books  and  boxes  and  packages  with  con- 
tents guessable  or  unguessable,  according 
to  shape  or  size  or  general  knobbiness. 
There  was  a  marvelous  doll-house,  com- 
plete from  kitchen  to  chamber,  beautifully 


The  Christmas  Tree  147 

equipped  throughout.  There  were  iso- 
lated bits  of  doll  furniture  —  an  adorable 
little  bureau,  a  daintily  fitted  out  brass 
bed,  a  most  delectable  Morris  chair  of  Lili- 
putian  proportions,  and  two  rosebud  tea- 
sets,  spread  out  respectively  on  two  white- 
clothed  tables  and  surrounded  hospitably 
with  chairs.  There  was  an  oddly  assorted 
menagerie  of  cows,  pigs,  kittens,  roosters, 
horses,  elephants,  and  rabbits  peeping  out 
from  the  branches  of  the  tree  with  bright, 
expectant  eyes.  There  were  queer,  fasci- 
nating things  that  wound  up,  and  choo- 
choo-cars  and  fire-engines  to  delight 
Brother's  mechanical  inclinations.  There 
were  dolls  of  all  sizes,  nationalities  and 
costumes,  representing  all  ranks  and  con- 
ditions of  social  life.  There  was  a  great, 
beautiful,  huggable,  almost  human,  Teddy 
bear,  and  —  but  why  go  on?  Suffice  it 
to  say  that  never  —  no,  never  —  had  there 


148  Sylvia's  Experiment 

been  such  a  magic  since  the  Christmas- 
tree  magic  began. 

The  magic  being  completed  at  last  the 
Christmas  family,  somewhat  exhausted 
but  triumphant,  sat  down  to  view  its  la- 
bors. Just  as  Phil  switched  on  the  myriad 
lights  that  the  magic  might  be  manifest  in 
its  full  glory  there  was  a  chug-chug  of  an 
automobile  heard  coming  up  the  hill.  It 
came  nearer  and  nearer  and  finally  ceased 
altogether  before  the  house. 


CHAPTER    XI 

THE   BELATED    GUESTS 

"   X^OODNESS!"  said  Sylvia,  "who 
1      "IT  can  it  be  as  late  as  this?     Did 
anybody  miss  any  presents  that 
ought  to  have  been  delivered?  " 

There  was  a  sharp  peal  at  the  bell, 
which  Sylvia  herself  went  to  answer,  as 
Aunt  Mandy  had  betaken  her  weary  bones 
to  bed.  On  the  threshold  stood  a  tall, 
rather  stern-looking  man  in  a  fur-lined 
coat  and  a  thin,  dark-eyed  boy  in  a  worn 
and  shabby  ulster. 

"  Good  evening,"  said  the  former.  "  I 
am  Angus  Mclntosh  and  this  is  my  friend, 
Gus  Nichols.  We  would  like  to  be  mem- 
bers of  the  Christmas  family  in  good  and 

149 


150  Sylvia's  Experiment 

regular  standing.  Will  you  take  us  in, 
Miss  Sylvia  Arden?" 

Sylvia's  eyes  opened  wide  with  aston- 
ishment, but  her  greeting  was  quick  and 
sincere. 

"  Of  course  we  will,  and  very  gladly," 
she  answered  with  a  hand  outstretched  to 
each.  Whereupon  a  triangular  ceremony 
made  the  latest  comers  members  of  the 
Christmas  family  on  the  spot. 

"  Stand  under  the  light,"  ordered  Mr. 
Mclntosh,  rather  unexpectedly.  '  I  want 
to  see  if  you  are  as  much  an  Arden  as  you 
look." 

Half-amused,  half-abashed,  Sylvia  obe- 
diently stepped  back  under  the  chandelier 
and  submitted  to  the  keen  scrutiny  of  the 
rather  arbitrary  and  abrupt  old  gentle- 
man. Standing  there  in  the  bright  light, 
in  her  white  dress,  with  uplifted  head, 
brown  eyes  a-shine  and  red  lips  curved 


The  Belated  Guests  151 

for  laughter,  she  might  have  been  Eleanor 
Arden  herself.  For  a  moment  Mr.  Mcln- 
tosh  forgot  that  he  was  an  old  man  and 
was  again  the  bashful  young  bookkeeper 
who  had  been  wont  to  watch  Miss  Nell 
furtively,  out  of  the  tail  of  his  eye,  while 
ostensibly  bending  over  his  ledger. 

'  You  are  very  like  your  Aunt  Elea- 
nor," he  said  at  last,  coming  back  to  the 
present  with  a  long  drawn  sigh.  "  I  felt 
certain  you  would  be,"  he  added.  "  No- 
body else  but  your  Aunt  Eleanor  would 
have  thought  of  so  incredibly  impossible 
and  crazy  notion  as  this  of  a  Christmas 
family.  Not  that  we  object  to  the  crazi- 
ness  —  Gus  and  I.  We  like  it,  since  to  it 
we  owe  our  presence  to-night.  Are  you 
sure  we  are  welcome  in  the  Christmas 
family?" 

"  Very  sure,"  and  Sylvia's  smile  went 
past  the  old  man  and  reached  the  shy  lad, 


152,  Sylvia's  Experiment 

who  had  been  hovering  in  the  background 
more  than  half  inclined  to  run  away. 
That  was  before  the  smile,  after  it  nothing 
would  have  dragged  him  away.  "  Come 
and  see  the  rest  of  the  family  and  the 
tree,"  went  on  Sylvia  cordially.  "  Leave 
your  bags  here,  please.  Oh ! "  to  Gus, 
"  you  brought  your  violin.  How  perfectly 
splendid!  This  way." 

She  pushed  aside  the  curtains  which 
separated  the  hall  from  the  library  and 
announced  distinctly,  but  casually,  as  if 
there  was  nothing  very  unexpected  about 
the  announcement,  "  Christmas  family, 
here  are  Mr.  Mclntosh  and  Gus  Nichols. 
Isn't  it  nice  they  could  get  here  to-night?  " 

If  the  family  in  its  heart  was  astounded 
it  was  far  too  well  trained  to  admit  it,  and 
rose  to  the  occasion  with  a  hospitable  im- 
perturbability that  did  it  credit.  Greet- 
ings and  introductions  were  exchanged. 


The  Belated  Guests  153 

The  Professor  and  Mrs.  Abbott  especially 
expressed  pleasure  at  the  arrival  of  Mr. 
Mclntosh,  and  the  yellow  cat,  which  had 
been  dozing  quietly  before  the  fire,  rose 
and  stretched  itself  and  jumped  up  into 
its  old  friend's  lap  and  thence  to  his  shoul- 
der, where  she  sat  purring-  pleasantly,  un- 
rebuffed,  to  the  amusement  of  the  family 
and  the  surprise  of  Mrs.  Abbott  in  par- 
ticular. 

The  eyes  of  the  temporarily  emanci- 
pated office  boy  were  glued  to  the  Christ- 
mas tree,  and  small  wonder.  That  tree 
would  have  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
most  sophisticated  connoisseur  in  Christ- 
mas trees,  and  the  experience  of  Gus  Nich- 
ols was  confined  solely  to  one  or  two 
meagre  mission  Christmas  trees,  as  re- 
mote from  this  glory  as  could  be  con- 
ceived. 

Perhaps   it  was  the   expression  in  his 


154  Sylvia's  Experiment 

eyes  which  reminded  Sylvia  of  a  horrible 
truth.  Amid  all  those  countless  treasures 
on  that  marvelous  tree,  there  was  not  a 
single  one  for  these  two  newcomers.  Of 
course  it  was  their  fault  for  not  having 
appeared  upon  the  scene  before,  but  that 
did  not  make  the  situation  a  whit  more 
bearable.  Had  Sylvia  been  asked  to  act 
as  a  temporary  substitute  for  St.  Peter 
she  would  have  found  some  excuse  or 
other  for  letting  in  every  applicant  for 
admission.  She  never  wanted  anybody  to 
be  left  out  of  anything,  no  matter  whose 
the  fault  or  what  the  cause  for  possible 
exclusion.  Plainly  something  must  be 
done  to  rectify  this  unnatural  state  of  af- 
fairs. She  slipped  out  in  the  hall,  making 
a  sign  to  Doctor  Tom  to  follow.  Safe 
outside,  she  poured  forth  her  quandary 
in  his  sympathetic  ears. 

"  It  wouldn't  be  so  bad  if  it  were  just 


The  Belated  Guests  155 

Mr.  Mclntosh,"  she  sighed.  "  Probably 
he  wouldn't  care,  though  I  wouldn't  like 
to  leave  even  him  out.  But  the  boy  —  Did 
you  see  him  look  at  the  tree?  Oh,  Doctor 
Tom,  don't  you  see  something  has  got  to 
be  done  about  it?  " 

As  usual  Doctor  Tom  saw.  That  was 
one  of  the  comforting  things  about  him. 
He  always  did  see.  He  consulted  his 
watch.  Nearly  ten-thirty  already,  and 
the  stores  closed  at  eleven  o'clock,  and 
late  enough,  too,  for  the  weary  clerks. 
He  turned  to  the  telephone,  to  see  what 
could  yet  be  done  to  save  the  day. 

"  3i2j,  please.  Yes,  Bailey  and  Sons' 
Department  Store.  Hello!  Mr.  Bailey 
there?  No?  Well,  get  me  Mr.  Norman 
Bailey,  then,  can  you?  Hello,  that  you, 
Norm?  This  is  Tom  —  Tom  Daly.  How 
long  does  your  place  keep  open  to-night? 
Eleven?  Could  you  make  it  a  bit  later 


156  Sylvia's  Experiment 

as  a  favor?  Can't  explain  over  the  'phone 
very  well,  but  it  will  mean  an  order  —  a 
good  one.  What's  that?  Yes,  I  know 
they  are  tired.  Send  'em  home,  but  keep 
open  for  us,  will  you?  You  will?  Good 
old  boy !  Thank  you." 

He  turned  back  to  Sylvia,  who  had  been 
listening  breathlessly. 

"  All  right,  sisterchen.  Bailey  and  Sons 
will  keep  open  for  us,  or,  rather,  one  son 
will.  Call  Phil.  We'll  hitch  up  the  horses 
in  a  jiffy.  Tell  every  one  who  wants  to 
go  on  a  belated  shopping  tour  to  get  into 
his  or  her  togs  instanter." 

;<  Doctor  Tom,  you  certainly  are  a  per- 
fect dear.  I  knew  you  would  fix  it  some- 
how." And  Sylvia  flew  to  deliver  her 
messages. 

It  was  scarcely  ten  minutes  before  the 
Christmas  family,  who  an  hour  ago  would 
have  declared  themselves  too  tired  to  stir, 


The  Belated  Guests  157 

were  merrily  piling  into  the  two-seater, 
preparatory  for  a  shopping  excursion  to 
Greendale's  one  large  department  store,  as 
if  it  were  the  beginning  of  the  evening. 
The  trip  became  not  only  an  errand  of 
necessity  but  a  first-class  frolic.  Of  course 
there  was  no  keeping  the  purpose  of  the 
nocturnal  adventure  a  secret  from  the  new 
arrivals.  Mr.  Mclntosh  shrewdly  scented 
it  from  the  beginning,  and  declared  that 
it  was  especially  his  party  and  that  he  ap- 
proved of  it  heartily.  He  had  no  mind  to 
be  left  out  of  the  fun  either  of  Christmas 
giving  or  receiving.  So  jovially  did  he 
enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  occasion  that 
he  took  pains  to  inform  people  casually, 
but  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye,  of  the  exact 
size  slippers  he  wore,  and  of  his  absorbing 
mania  for  violet  ties,  and  of  his  washer- 
lady's  equally  absorbing  mania  for  retain- 
ing his  best  handkerchiefs  in  her  posses- 


158  Sylvia's  Experiment 

sion.  Gus  could  hardly  believe  his  ears, 
to  hear  his  dignified  employer  joking  with 
Sylvia  over  a  projected  mutual  exchange 
of  hosiery  and  consequent  gathering  of 
data  as  to  respective  preferences  in  size, 
material,  and  color  scheme. 

Only  the  sleeping  children  and  the  Pro- 
fessor and  Mrs.  Abbott  were  left  behind 
to  guard  the  Christmas  tree,  while  the  rest 
of  the  family  went  to  gather  in  a  new  relay 
of  gifts  to  offer  at  the  shrine. 

The  party  arrived  at  the  store  at  ten 
minutes  before  eleven  and  were  met  by 
Mr.  Norman  Bailey,  who,  after  being  in- 
troduced to  the  family  and  listening  to 
their  explanation  of  the  dire  necessity 
which  brought  them  out  shopping  at  such 
a  scandalous  hour  on  Christmas  eve, 
granted  them  absolution  and  told  them 
that  the  store  was  at  their  disposal. 

The  weary  clerks  brightened  a  little  at 


The  Belated  Guests  159 

the  advent  of  the  merry  party  and  ha- 
stened to  wait  upon  them  not  grudgingly 
but  cheerfully.  Sylvia  helped  the  situa- 
tion still  more  by  telling  the  story  of  the 
Christmas  family  to  the  girl  at  the  hosiery 
counter  while  she  selected  Mr.  Mclntosh's 
gift.  The  story  spread  like  fire,  and  every 
one  rushed  to  serve  the  Christmas  family 
party  with  a  right  good  will.  The  shop- 
ping was  not  nearly  completed  when  the 
clock  struck  eleven,  but  several  of  the 
clerks  came  to  Mr.  Bailey  of  their  own 
accord  and  offered  to  stay  a  little  longer, 
a  proposal  which  he  gladly  accepted. 

They  had  more  than  one  hearty  laugh 
at  the  way  the  different  members  of  the 
family  dodged  each  other  and  sent  intru- 
ders on  wild  goose  chases  to  remote  parts 
of  the  store  whenever  their  absence  was 
imperative.  Mr.  Mclntosh  had  thought- 
fully provided  himself  with  a  list  of  the 


160  Sylvia's  Experiment 

entire  Christmas  family,  including  ages, 
and  set  about  his  purchasing  with  an  oc- 
casional hint  from  Mrs.  Emory  or  some 
interested  clerk,  but  for  the  most  part  on 
his  own  responsibility,  and  showed  a  re- 
markable skill  and  ingenuity  for  one  so 
unpractised  in  Christmas  family  shopping. 
He  had  privately  provided  Gus  with  a  roll 
of  bills,  bidding  him  come  to  him  for  more 
when  that  was  exhausted.  "  Don't  forget 
anybody,"  he  ordered.  '  We  are  bound  to 
do  this  thing  handsomely,  partner." 

Just  as  the  clock  reached  the  halfway 
point  between  eleven  and  twelve  some  col- 
ored gentlemen  appeared  from  the  neigh- 
boring hotel  with  hot  oyster  stew,  crack- 
ers, pickles,  doughnuts  and  coffee,  for 
the  whole  company,  including  proprietor, 
shoppers  and  clerks.  The  idea  had  been 
Doctor  Tom's,  but  Mr.  Mclntosh  had 
been  so  delighted  with  it  that  he  had 


The  Belated  Guests  161 

insisted  on  footing  the  bills.  Perhaps 
never  was  an  impromptu  feast  more  en- 
joyed. Every  one  forgot  weariness,  and 
ate  and  laughed  and  chatted  as  if  it  were 
the  most  pleasant  and  natural  thing  in 
the  world  to  sit  down  at  nearly  midnight 
on  Christmas  eve  and  eat  oyster  stew 
from  a  dry-goods  counter. 

It  was  midnight  when  the  store  finally 
closed,  and  the  groups  parted  with 
friendly  good  nights  and  merry  Christ- 
mases.  Just  as  the  family  got  itself 
packed  into  the  sleigh  the  bells  pealed  out 
across  the  snow.  It  was  Christmas. 


CHAPTER    XII 

CHRISTMAS    MORNING 

IF  it  hadn't  been  for  the  children  every 
one  would  have  slept  late  the  next 
morning,  owing  to  the  midnight  rev- 
elry, but  they  had  made  Mrs.  Emory 
promise  to  wake  them  as  soon  as  the  chil- 
dren woke,  for  no  one  had  a  mind  to  miss 
the  best  part  of  Christmas,  the  seeing  the 
delighted  eyes  of  the  "  Wonder-Babies," 
a  process  which  Sylvia  had  bespoken  from 
the  beginning.  Consequently  every  one, 
even  Mr.  Mclntosh,  sprang  up  with  alac- 
rity in  response  to  Marianna's  "  Mewwy 
Chwismas!  Come  see  the  twee! 
Huwwy !  "  Everybody  hurried,  and  made 
astonishingly  speedy  toilets  so  as  to  see 

162 


Christmas  Morning  163 

the  first  act,  which  was,  of  course,  the 
rifling  of  the  stockings  —  fat,  lumpy  and 
distorted,  with  a  dollie  peeping  out  of  the 
top  of  each,  and  a  round  yellow  orange 
in  each  toe,  with  all  kinds  of  marvels  in 
between,  which  drew  from  the  children  an 
ecstatic  chorus  of  "  Ohs "  and  "  Ahs," 
while  the  elders  stood  by,  enchanted  at  the 
prospect. 

"  Now  for  the  tree !  "  cried  Sylvia,  when 
the  last  treasure  had  been  extracted  and 
the  stockings  left  lank  and  lean  and  un- 
interesting again. 

Phil  turned  on  the  lights,  and  the  chil- 
dren, who  had  been  too  much  absorbed  in 
their  stocking  discoveries  to  realize  the 
greater  splendor,  turned  and  stood  for  a 
moment  speechless  with  wonder  and  de- 
light. 

"  Pitty !  Pitty !  "  cried  Brother  at  length, 
finding  voice. 


164  Sylvia's  Experiment 

11  Oh !  Oh !  Oh !  "  Marianna  was  cry- 
ing simultaneously,  hopping  up  and  down 
on  one  foot  exultantly.  But  Elizabeth 
remained  silent,  too  happy  for  speech.  In 
the  very  foremost  place  under  the  tree, 
in  the  Morris  chair,  sat  a  doll,  a  wonderful 
blue-eyed,  golden-haired  doll,  in  a  dainty 
flowered  pink  and  white  silk  gown,  and 
somehow  Elizabeth  knew  that  this  child 
was  hers  —  hers  —  hers.  Her  heart  cried 
out  and  claimed  it,  though  her  lips  were 
still. 

Doctor  Tom  was  chosen  to  distribute 
the  presents,  which  he  did  with  many 
merry  speeches,  while  Sylvia  and  Mari- 
anna presented  the  treasures  to  their  re- 
spective owners. 

Such  a  seemingly  endless  process! 
There  surely  never  was  such  an  inexhaust- 
ible tree,  and  surely  no  Christmas  family 
was  ever  so  delighted,  collectively  and 


Christmas  Morning  165 

individually  with  its  spoils.  Every  one  — 
not  excepting  Aunt  Mandy  and  her  hus- 
band and  the  two  "  no-count  "  nieces  who 
had  been  called  in  to  help  with  the  house- 
work —  had  everything  he  or  she  had  ever 
dreamed  of  desiring  and  a  hundred  things 
besides.  Perhaps  outside  of  Elizabeth 
Sylvia  herself  was  most  surprised  by  the 
multiplicity  of  her  gifts.  She  had  been  so 
absorbed  in  the  fun  of  getting  things  for 
the  others  that  she  had  had  no  time  to 
speculate  as  to  her  own  possible  acquisi- 
tions. Mrs.  Emory  had  been  intercepting 
all  Christmas  mail  and  express  for  days, 
and  the  girl  had  no  idea  how  many  things 
had  come  from  friends  outside  of  the  fam- 
ily. For  Sylvia  had  hosts  of  friends  of 
all  ages  and  kinds.  There  had  been  a  won- 
derful box  from  her  guardian  and  his  wife 
in  Italy,  with  all  sorts  of  alluring  things, 
books,  pictures,  a  beautiful  jeweled  pen- 


166  Sylvia's  Experiment 

dant,  an  exquisite  chiffon  scarf,  and  all 
manner  of  pretty  trinkets,  picked  up  here 
and  there  on  their  travels.  Perhaps  best 
of  all  was  the  card  which  came  with  the 
rest,  bearing  the  love  of  the  absent  ones 
for  "our  dear  little  girl;"  a  message 
which  almost  brought  the  tears  to  Sylvia's 
eyes  and  made  her  heart  very  warm 
toward  the  two  who,  though  scarcely  kin 
at  all  had  always  been  very  kind  to  her. 
Another  gift  which  delighted  and  touched 
her  was  a  beautiful  embroidered  kimono, 
of  white  silk  with  wonderful  gold  and 
silver  Chinese  handiwork  from  Phil's 
mother,  with  a  note  expressing  the  wri- 
ter's appreciation  for  her  kindness  to  "  our 
boy."  But  the  gifts  of  the  Christmas  fam- 
ily, from  the  six  pairs  of  silk  stockings  from 
"  Grandpa  "  to  the  tiny  china  bunny  from 
Brother,  which  he  had  picked  out  "  all  by 
himself,"  as  Marianna  informed  her- 


Christmas  Morning  167 

these  were  best  of  all.  There  was  a  beau- 
tiful edition  of  Tennyson  from  the  Pro- 
fessor, with  a  charmingly  complimentary 
little  quotation  on  the  fly-leaf;  a  dainty 
hand-embroidered  waist  from  the  Christ- 
mas mother,  with  "  the  best  love  and  grat- 
itude of  the  giver  for  my  dear  Christmas 
daughter;"  a  set  of  dinner-cards  and  a 
pretty  little  water-color  sketch  from  Mrs. 
Emory;  a  funny  note  from  Doctor  Tom, 
stating  that  his  present  was  too  obstrep- 
erous to  be  "  cribbed,  cabin'd  and  con- 
fined "  by  the  limitations  of  a  mere  Christ- 
mas tree  and  would  appear  later  when  the 
place  and  the  hour  and  the  loved  one 
should  coincide  geographically.  From 
Phil  was  a  queer  pretty  green  stone  set 
as  a  pendant  and  suspended  from  a  silver 
chain,  a  stone  which  he  had  himself  found 
and  had  had  polished  and  set  for  her. 
Elizabeth's  clever,  patient  ringers  had 


168  Sylvia's  Experiment 

wrought  a  little  daisy  chain  of  beads  for 
her  beloved  Miss  Sylvia,  while  Marianna's 
gift  was  a  photograph  of  herself  and 
Brother  set  in  a  silver  frame,  which  de- 
lighted Sylvia  immeasurably.  Gus  had 
selected  somewhat  dubiously,  and  with 
the  aid  of  the  interested  clerk,  a  box  of 
handkerchiefs  with  pink  butterflies  in  the 
corner  of  each.  The  clerk  had  pronounced 
them  "  simply  swell,"  and  if  Sylvia  found 
them  a  little  too  swell,  nobody  —  and  cer- 
tainly not  Gus  —  ever  guessed  it. 

When  the  last  package  was  opened,  and 
Sylvia  sat  on  the  floor  surrounded  by  bil- 
lows of  tissue  paper  and  yards  of  holly 
ribbon,  she  looked  up  and  suddenly  per- 
ceived that  she  was  the  last  one  to  finish 
her  revelations  and  that  the  others  —  at 
least  all  the  older  ones  —  were  looking  at 
her  with  faces  wreathed  in  smiles. 

"  Oh,"  she  cried  beatifically,  "  hasn't  it 


Christmas  Morning  169 

been  simply  splendid,  and  how  can  I  ever 
thank  all  you  dear  people?" 

"  Sylvia,  you  do  get  things  so  twisted!  " 
complained  Doctor  Tom.  "  Here  we  are 
all  pining  to  rise  with  one  accord  and 
thank  you  for  the  best  Christmas  we  ever 
had.  Are  we  not,  good  people?" 

And  the  response  was  so  hearty  and 
unanimous  that  Sylvia's  face  grew  rosy 
and  she  hid  behind  Brother  and  Teddy  to 
conceal  the  happy  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  Know  all  men  by  these  presents  that 
this  is  Christmas  morning,"  announced 
Doctor  Tom.  "  But  is  anybody  besides 
me  hungry?" 

"  Drefful  hungwy,"  sighed  Marianna, 
"  Muvver  wouldn't  let  me  eat  any  candy 
—  not  one  piece,"  pathetically. 

:<  I  should  say  not.  The  candy  would 
swallow  up  your  breakfast  appetite  as  fast 
as  Jonah  swallowed  the  whale." 


170  Sylvia's  Experiment 

He  paused,  and  Marianna  surveyed  him 
with  puzzled  eyes. 

"  But  he  didn't,"  she  burst  out  at  last. 
'  Whale  swallowed  him." 

"Oh,  was  that  the  way  it  was?  Well, 
perhaps  you  are  right.  I  was  just  judging 
Jonah's  appetite  by  my  own.  I  could 
swallow  a  couple  of  whales  this  minute 
and  think  nothing  of  it.  Sylvia,  if  you  can 
leave  your  goods  and  chattels  long  enough, 
I  think  we  could  find  the  obstreperous 
present." 

Sylvia  sprang  up  with  alacrity. 

"  Come  on,  Phil,  Felicia,  everybody.  I 
am  simply  crazy  to  see  what  it  is." 

And  when  she  opened  the  door  into  the 
hall,  a  beautiful  Scotch  collie  sprang  up 
to  meet  her,  wiggling  all  over  with  excite- 
ment and  pleasure. 

"  Oh,  Doctor  Tom,  is  he  really  for  me? 
I'd  rather  have  a  dog  than  anything  in  the 


Christmas  Morning  171 

world.  Oh,  you  beauty!  You  blessed 
doggums !  "  And  Sylvia  knelt  and  put  her 
arms  around  his  neck  so  that  for  a  moment 
two  pairs  of  brown  eyes,  girl's  and  dog's, 
were  on  a  level,  and  an  unspoken  compact 
of  friendship  was  made  then  and  there. 

"  What  is  his  name?  "  demanded  Sylvia 
of  Doctor  Tom. 

"  Christmas.  Chris  for  short.  Neat 
and  appropriate,  isn't  it?" 

"  Perfect.  But,  Doctor  Tom,  what  will 
I  do  with  him?  Do  you  suppose  they  will 
let  me  have  him  at  St.  Anne's?  " 

"Not  much -they  won't.  He  is  far  too 
lively  a  customer.  Aunt  Mandy  and  I  will 
look  after  him  for  you,  and  he'll  do  for  a 
bribe  to  make  you  come  home  often. 
There  is  a  method  in  my  madness,  you 


see." 


But  before  Sylvia  had  time  to  reply,  the 
children  came  crying  out  for  them  to  come 


172  Sylvias  Experiment 

and  look  at  Santa.  They  all  ran  to  the 
door  and  exclaimed  with  delight.  Santa 
and  his  reindeer  were  simply  dazzling  and 
splendid  in  the  clear  sunshine.  Phil  had 
turned  the  hose  on  them  the  previous 
evening,  and  the  water  had  frozen  imme- 
diately and  made  a  beautiful  shining  sur- 
face. 

"  I  dess  Santy  liked  it  when  he  came," 
said  Marianna.  "  S'pose  he  laughed?'1 

"  I'll  bet  he  did,"  said  Phil. 

And  just  then  appeared  Aunt  Mandy 
from  the  dining-room  door. 

"Are  you  all  gone  plum  crazy?"  she 
demanded.  "  A-standing  in  that  there 
door  with  the  thermometey  down  to 
nothin'.  You  all  jist  come  'n'  put  some 
hot  coffee  inter  yer  stomicks  'fore  yer 
ketches  yer  never-git-over." 


CHAPTER    XIII 

A   CHRISTMAS    ROMANCE 

CHRISTMAS  day  is  short,  indeed, 
in  our  northern  hemisphere,  one 
of  the  shortest  days  of  the  year, 
but  perhaps,  after  all,  the  early  winter  twi- 
light comes  none  too  soon  for  weary  little 
folk,  worn  out  with  the  joy  of  the  day. 
Brother  had  fallen  asleep  with  his  head  on 
the  plump  elephant  and  his  beloved  Teddy 
clasped  in  his  embrace.  So  his  mother 
had  found  him  and  borne  him  off  to  bed. 
Marianna,  too,  had  followed  with  her 
hands  full  of  treasures,  declaring  that  she 
would  like  a  little  nap,  and  did  not  object 
when  her  mother  suggested  that  she  also 
go  to  bed,  although  the  tall  clock  in  the 
hall  had  not  brought  its  hands  to  the  point 

173 


174  Sylvia's  Experiment 

on  its  face  that  officially  spelled  bedtime. 
Sylvia  slipped  up-stairs  with  them  to  help 
undress  the  children,  a  process  that  she 
dearly  loved.  To-night,  however,  even 
the  insatiable  Marianna  was  too  weary  to 
demand  the  usual  bedtime  story,  and 
Brother  hardly  awakened  at  all  during 
the  disrobing  process  and  settled  down  on 
the  pillow  with  a  profound  sigh  of  content 
with  Teddy  still  in  his  arms.  Marianna 
begged  to  be  allowed  to  omit  prayers, 
explaining  that  her  tongue  was  sleepy. 

"  I'll  ask  God  to  bless  ev'wybody.  Will 
that  do?"  she  inquired,  drowsy  but  con- 
scientious. And,  on  being  assured  that  it 
would  be  sufficient,  she  tumbled  sleepily 
into  bed,  blissful  if  exhausted. 

Sylvia  bent  to  give  her  and  the  sleeping 
Brother  the  good  night  kiss  they  usually 
vociferously  demanded  and  slipped  out  of 
the  room  softly,  feeling  as  if  perhaps  there 


A  Christmas  Romance  175 

was  some  vague  mother  rite  for  Christmas 
night  which  profane  eyes  might  not  wit- 
ness. She  did  not,  however  go  immedi- 
ately down-stairs,  but  went  to  the  window 
in  the  hall  and  looked  out  into  the  still 
white  world  outside.  The  sun  had  set  and 
the  pines  were  already  indistinct  and  dark, 
but  over  beyond  in  the  western  sky  was 
a  glow  of  deep  rose,  shot  with  bars  of  gold. 
It  was  all  so  quiet  and  beautiful  that  she 
felt  almost  as  if  she  were  in  church,  and 
the  brown  eyes  grew  tender  and  radiant 
as  they  looked  out  into  the  night  and 
caught  the  mysterious  sense  of  some  holy 
presence  brooding  over  the  earth. 

There  was  a  light  step  behind  her,  and, 
in  a  moment,  Felicia's  arms  were  around 
her.  Neither  spoke,  but  together  they 
stood  and  watched  the  sunset  color  fade 
and  the  first  stars  come  out  in  the  deep 
purple  evening  sky. 


176  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"  Oh,  it  is  beautiful !  "  sighed  Sylvia,  at 
last.  "  How  can  I  ever  leave  it,  now  that 
I  know  how  beautiful  it  is  —  to  have  a 
home?  But  it  wouldn't  be  home  without 
you  dear  people,"  she  added  regretfully. 
"  Oh,  Felicia,  if  I  could  only  keep  you  and 
the  babies!  Dear  big  sister,  couldn't  you 
stay  and  make  a  home  for  me?  Oh,  I 
know  I  am  selfish  to  ask  it,  but  the  whole 
house  just  cries  out  for  you,  and  you  know 
you  hate  living  in  little  stuffy  apartments, 
and  Marianna  and  Brother  are  so  happy 
here.  Oh,  Felicia,  couldn't  you?  Just 
think  of  our  being  here  together  all  the 
time!" 

"  Sylvia,  dear,  where  would  your  educa- 
tion come  in  and  my  work?  It  is  a  beau- 
tiful idea,  like  all  of  yours,  but  I  am  afraid 
it  isn't  very  possible." 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  I  do  have  to  keep  on 
going  to  school,"  admitted  Sylvia  reluc- 


A  Christmas  Romance  177 

tantly,  "  but  I  could  come  home  often, 
and  there  would  be  vacations.  Oh,  dear, 
it  is  awfully  selfish,  I  know.  I  sup- 
pose you  wouldn't  like  to  give  up  your 
work." 

"  It  isn't  exactly  wouldn't  like,  Sylvia. 
It  is  can't.  Marianna  and  Brother  and  I 
have  to  live,  and  every  year  it  will  take 
more  money  to  give  them  the  things  I 
desire  for  them." 

"  Felicia  —  I  —  oh,  I  don't  know  how 
to  put  it,  but,  of  course,  I  did  not  mean 
you  were  to  give  up  everything  just  to 
gratify  little  selfish  me.  Housekeepers  — 
no,  homekeepers  —  command  big  salaries. 
No,  don't  interrupt,  please,  until  I  have 
finished.  I  have  lots  of  money  —  more 
than  I  can  ever  spend  if  I  live  to  be  a  hun- 
dred —  a  frightfully  big  amount  of  it,  and 
I  would  rather  spend  some  of  it  on  having 
a  home  than  any  way  I  know.  But  that 


178  Sylvia's  Experiment 

isn't  all.  My  guardian  and  his  wife  will 
probably  live  abroad  a  long  time.  You 
know  he  is  an  author  and  is  writing  a  book 
about  Italy.  They  have  lived  there  a 
great  deal  at  one  time  or  another,  and 
would  like  to  stay  permanently  if  it  were 
not  for  me.  They  know  I  would  hate  to 
go  abroad  and  live  again,  just  as  I  have 
gotten  all  American.  Besides,  it  wouldn't 
be  sensible  until  I  am  through  school.  It 
isn't  the  first  time  the  idea  has  been  sug- 
gested of  having  some  one  make  a  home 
for  me  at  the  Hall.  It  is  really  the  best 
way  out  of  it.  Mr.  Gordon  would  approve 
heartily,  if  the  right  person  could  be 
found.  Oh,  Felicia,  couldn't  you  let  your- 
self be  the  right  person?  " 

"  Sylvia,  you  fairly  take  my  breath 
away.  How  can  I  answer  all  in  a  minute? 
Mr.  Gordon  might  not  think  I  was  the 
right  person  at  all." 


A  Christmas  Romance  179 

"  He  would  if  Doctor  Tom  said  you 
were.  He  has  the  greatest  respect  for 
Doctor  Tom's  opinions,  and  you  know 
what  Doctor  Tom  would  say.  He  thinks 
you  are  just  perfect." 

"  Would  it  not  be  wiser  to  have  some 
one  a  little  older  —  like  Mrs.  Abbott? 
Why  don't  you  ask  Mrs.  Abbott?"  with 
sudden  generous  inspiration. 

But  Sylvia  smiled  and  shook  her 
head. 

"  Like  grape-nuts  —  there  is  a  reason. 
Didn't  you  guess?  I  didn't  until  last  night 
after  we  came  home  from  the  village,  and 
I  wouldn't  have  believed  my  own  presenti- 
ments then  if  the  dear  Christmas  mother 
hadn't  told." 

"  You  mean  the  Professor  and  Mrs. 
Abbott?" 

"  Yes.  Isn't  it  a  beautiful  Christmas 
romance?  I've  been  fairly  bursting  with 


180  Sylvia's  Experiment 

it  all  day  ever  since  I  knew.  He  wanted 
to  marry  her  ever  so  long  ago  and  has  kept 
on  wanting  it  ever  since.  Isn't  that  a 
lovely  thing  to  have  happen  in  the  Christ- 
mas family?  " 

"  It  is  indeed.  What  a  good  fairy  you 
have  been  to  us  all,  Sylvia!  " 

"  But  that  isn't  answering  my  ques- 
tion," persisted  Sylvia.  "  Big  sister  mine, 
couldn't  you  say  yes?  Or  do  you  love 
your  pretty  picture  cards  so  much?  "  wist- 
fully. 

"  Sylvia,  I'll  tell  you  a  secret.  I  loathe, 
detest  and  abominate  my  '  pretty  picture 
cards,'  as  you  call  them." 

"Oh,  goody!  And  you  wouldn't  mind 
leaving  your  cunning  little  apartment  for 
me?" 

"And  Arden  Hall?  Oh,  Sylvia,  Syl- 
via, you  have  no  idea  how  I  detest  apart- 
ments as  well  as  picture  cards.  But 


A  Christmas  Romance  181 

I      have      endured      both      since      needs 
must." 

"Then,  you  will  come?  Oh,  Felicia!" 
"  Gently,  little  sister.  There  is  a  good 
deal  to  be  considered  all  round.  We  can- 
not do  anything  until  your  guardian  gives 
his  consent,  and  that  will  take  time  at 
least.  But,  if  you  like,  I  will  stay  a  little 
longer,  so  as  to  be  near  Elizabeth  during 
the  operation  and  afterward.  Dr.  Daly 
thinks  there  is  no  doubt  of  the  advisibility 
of  an  operation,  though  he  cannot  tell 
positively,  of  course,  until  after  the  exam- 
ination to-morrow.  He  wants  the  opera- 
tion to  take  place  at  the  Greendale  hos- 
pital, and,  in  that  case,  her  aunt  could  not 
be  with  her  much  of  the  time,  and  I  should 
be  happy  to  see  her  every  day,  if  you  will 
permit  me  to  remain  a  little  longer  here." 
"  Permit !  I  shall  be  so  grateful  if  you 
only  will!  I  had  been  worrying  about 


182  Sylvias  Experiment 

that.  For  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  go 
back  to  school." 

"  Then  we  will  leave  it  that  way,  for  the 
present,  until  the  more  permanent  ar- 
rangement can  be  discussed.  For  myself 
I  can  only  say  thank  you  again,  dear  little 
sister,  with  the  cleverest  brain  and  the 
kindest  heart  in  the  world.  Do  you  know, 
dear,  how  sad  a  season  Christmas  is  usu- 
ally for  me?  And  this  year  it  has  been 
so  happy,  thanks  to  you  and  all  the  dear 
family.  And,  Sylvia,  I  don't  believe  you 
can  guess  how  dearly  I  should  love  to 
make  this  beautiful  house  of  yours  a  real 
home  for  you." 

"  Felicia,  don't  think  I  mean  just  a  com- 
mon housekeeper.  I  want  you  to  be  just 
as  I  said  —  a  homekeeper,  with  time  to  be 
your  lovely,  talented  self  besides.  Do  you 
know  up-stairs  there  is  a  great  big  room 
that  would  make  a  perfect  studio,  and  you 


A  Christmas  Romance  183 

could  paint  or  '  sculpt/  or  do  any  other 
beautiful  thing  you  liked  up  there.  Oh, 
Felicia,  I  do  want  you  so.  I  am  going  to 
write  Cousin  John  to-night,  and  also  make 
Doctor  Tom  write." 


CHAPTER   XIV 

"  MUSIC   HATH   CHARMS  " 

HAND    in    hand,    the    two    went 
down-stairs    and    found    the    li- 
brary quiet  and  dimly  lit.     Mr. 
Mclntosh  had  fallen  asleep  in  his  chair,  his 
last  night's  unusual  effort  having  left  him, 
somewhat  weary.     Doctor  Tom  and  Phil 
and  Gus  were  all  invisible,  but  the  Pro- 
fessor and  Mrs.  Abbott  sat  before  the  fire, 
chatting  quietly   as   became   middle-aged 
lovers. 

"  Christmas  mother!  Christmas 
mother!"  said  Sylvia,  "I  let  the  cat  out 
of  the  bag  to  Felicia.  Please  forgive  me, 
and  -tell  her  quick  officially,  so  it  will  be 
all  right," 

184 


"  Music  Hath  Charms  "  185 

Mrs.  Abbott  smiled  up  at  them  with  a 
pretty  little  girlish  blush. 

"  There  isn't  much  to  tell,"  she  an- 
swered. "  Only  we  decided  last  night  — 
the  Professor  and  I  —  that  we  might  as 
well  be  two  happy  people  together  as  two 
lonely  people  apart.  We  loved  each  other 
long  ago,  and  I  rather  think  we  have  kept 
at  it  ever  since,  only  we  were  too  stupid 
to  know  it  until  our  dear  Christmas 
daughter  brought  us  together  again." 

"  I  am  so  glad,"  said  Felicia  heartily, 
"  and  I  hope  you  will  be  very  happy." 

A  little  snore  from  the  arm-chair  made 
Sylvia  smile,  then  grow  sober,  remember- 
ing what  the  new  arrangement  would 
mean  for  poor  "  Grandpa."  Mrs.  Abbott 
followed  her  gaze  and  read  her  thought. 

"  I  know,"  she  said,  a  little  sadly. 
"  That  is  what  is  troubling  me.  What 
will  become  of  him?  " 


186  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"  He'll  have  to  take  care  of  himself," 
said  the  Professor,  "  as  I  have  been  doing 
all  these  years.  Turn  about  is  fair  play. 
He  can  go  to  a  hotel." 

As  if  the  obnoxious  word  had  power  to 
rouse  him  from  slumber,  however  pro- 
found, Mr.  Mclntosh  sat  up. 

''  Bless  me,  I  believe  I  took  forty 
winks,"  he  announced  a  little  shame- 
facedly. 

"  Poor  dear  Grandpa !  "  smiled  Sylvia, 
for  he  knew  the  little  joke  by  this  time 
and  liked  it  from  her.  "  Did  the  Christ- 
mas family  tire  him  all  out?  " 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  he  denied  stoutly.  "  I 
am  having  the  time  of  my  life,  as  the  boys 
say.  By  the  way,  where  are  the  boys?  " 

"  Snowshoeing,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott. 
'  They  got  restless  and  had  to  work  off 
their  superfluous  energies." 

"  Good   thing.     Granddaughter   Sylvia, 


"Music  Hath  Charms"  187 

did  I  tell  you  that  Gils'  real  name  is  Gus- 
tavus  Niccolini?  Gus  Nichols  is  only  his 
American  pseudonym." 

"  Oh !  I  wondered  where  he  got  such  a 
common  ordinary  name  with  eyes  like 
that." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  him?  " 

"  I  like  him.  Of  course  he  is  quiet  and 
shy,  so  I  don't  know  him  very  well;  but 
I  suppose  he  feels  a  little  queer  among  so 
many  strangers." 

"  Partly  that,  but  I  fancy  it  is  more  be- 
cause he  is  afraid  of  letting  out  toads,  in- 
stead of  diamonds,  if  he  opens  his  mouth. 
His  vocabulary  is  mostly  the  language  of 
the  streets.  I  am  glad  he  has  sense 
enough  to  keep  still." 

"  I  don't  believe  he  could  be  any  more 
slangy  than  Phil  and  I  are.  We  shock 
the  Christmas  mother  dreadfully.  Don't 
we,  dear?  " 


188  Sylvias  Experiment 

Mrs.  Abbott  smiled  indulgently.  "  Not 
so  much  shock  as  confound,"  she  an- 
swered. '  When  you  and  Phil  really  let 
yourselves  go  it  is  like  listening  to  a  for- 
eign language." 

"  Mary,"  said  the  Professor,  abruptly, 
"  we  haven't  told  Angus." 

Mr.  Mclntosh  sat  up  very  straight,  as 
if  some  one  had  suddenly  rammed  a  yard- 
stick down  his  back.  Was  Bob  Lane 
crazy,  or  was  he  himself  still  dreaming? 
The  man  was  calling  his  housekeeper, 
"  Mary."  It  was  almost  incredible. 

"  She  is  going  to  marry  me,"  went  on 
Professor  Lane,  tranquilly.  '  We  would 
like  your  congratulations,  Angus." 

It  must  be  confessed  that  Mr.  Mcln- 
tosh's  first  confused  reflections  were 
wholly  personal  and  selfish.  What  was 
going  to  become  of  him  ?  He  saw  the  com- 
fort of  his  remaining  years  vanishing  —  a 


"Music  Hath  Charms"  189 

dim  speck  in  the  distance  —  never  to  be 
overtaken.  Then  to  his  credit  be  it  said  he 
rallied  and  rose  to  the  occasion  nobly. 

'  You  have  them,  Bob  —  many  of  them. 
You've  won  a  treasure."  Involuntarily  he 
sighed  a  little,  seeing  the  vision  of  the 
smooth  seas  of  domestic  comfort  on  which 
his  friend  was  embarking,  leaving  him  a 
forlorn  shipwrecked  mariner  upon  the 
strand.  "  You  are  a  lucky  man,"  he  added 
fervently. 

''  I  know  it."  And  the  Professor  smiled 
his  wise,  deep,  quiet  smile  into  the  eyes  of 
the  Christmas  mother.  If  his  interpreta- 
tion of  his  luckiness  varied  a  little  from 
his  old  friend's  perhaps  neither  knew  it. 

"  Isn't  it  —  um  —  ah  —  a  little  sud- 
den? "  inquired  the  latter,  after  a  moment. 

'''  Not  very.  I  asked  her  first  some 
thirty  years  ago." 

"  Oh !  "    Mr.  Mclntosh  had  no  more  to 


190  Sylvia's  Experiment 

say.  The  world  of  sentiment  was  not  his 
world  and  never  had  been. 

Just  then  the  boys  —  Doctor  Tom,  Phil 
and  Gus  —  arrived,  accompanied  by  Chris, 
who  came  bounding  in,  to  the  great  con- 
sternation of  the  yellow  cat,  who  retired 
to  the  top  of  the  book-case,  from  which 
vantage-point  she  glared  down  at  the  in- 
truder with  very  large,  frightened,  vindic- 
tive eyes,  and  a  tail  enlarged  to  abnormal 
proportions. 

"  I  say,  Sylvia,"  said  Phil,  "  a  messenger 
boy  just  left  this  for  you." 

He  deposited  a  huge  florist  box  on  the 
table  beside  her  as  he  spoke.  Sylvia 
opened  it  and  drew  forth  a  mass  of  enor- 
mous American  Beauty  roses,  holding 
them  up  for  the  company  to  admire. 

"  Wonder  who  they're  from,"  she  puz- 
zled, diving  after  the  card  which  lay  at  the 
bottom  of  the  box. 


"Music  Hath  Charms"  191 

"  Not  so  very  hard  to  guess,"  muttered 
Phil,  a  little  sulkily. 

" '  Who  is  Sylvia  ?   What  is  she  ? 
That  all  her  swains  adore  her  ?  ' ' 

quoted  Doctor  Tom  teasingly. 

But  Sylvia  did  not  hear.  She  was  busy 
reading  the  message  on  the  back  of  Mr. 
John  Stuart  Amidon's  correct  bit  of  paste- 
board. 

"  This  is  a  peace  offering,"  ran  the 
words.  "  It's  Christmas.  Am  I  for- 
given? " 

"  Isn't  it  just  like  Jack  to  send  American 
Beauties  when  I  had  so  much  rather  have 
violets  or  little  quiet  roses?  "  she  thought. 
"  I  don't  care  a  bit  for  big,  flamboyant 
things,  but  he  never  can  realize  it.  Poor 
stupid  Jack.  It  was  nice  of  him  anyway, 
and  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  forgive  him." 

She  looked  up  and  smiled  a  little  wick- 
edly at  Phil's  ostentatiously  turned  back. 


192  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"  Phil,  will  you  please  take  the  box 
away?"  she  begged  innocently.  "I  have 
to  find  a  vase  big  enough  to  put  them  in, 
if  I  can." 

"  Perhaps  Aunt  Mandy  will  lend  you 
the  wash  boiler,"  he  observed  a  little  sar- 
donically. If  he  had  had  a  million  dollars 
he  would  never  have  sent  Sylvia  American 
Beauties.  He  was  far  too  wise  and  under- 
standing. Nevertheless  he  resented  Ami- 
don's  doing  it,  since  he  couldn't  himself 
if  he  had  wanted  to.  Therefore  he  stuffed 
the  great  box  rather  grimly  under  his  arm 
as  he  held  open  the  door  for  Sylvia  to  pass 
with  her  arms  full  of  the  roses  almost  as 
tall  as  herself,  and  followed  with  an  air 
of  martyred  dignity. 

"  Poor  Phil,  I  suspect  his  nose  is  out  of 
joint,"  smiled  Mrs.  Emory.  "  He  need  not 
worry  though.  He  has  some  things  that 
young  Amidon  —  for  I  suppose  it  was  he 


"Music  Hath  Charms"  193 

—  hasn't,  and  Sylvia  is  quite  wise  enough 
to  know  it." 

"  She'd  better,"  answered  the  Professor. 
"  Phil  Lorrimer's  worth  three  Ami- 
dons." 

A  large  vase  was  at  last  secured,  and 
Phil  was  obliged  to  stand  by  and  hold  the 
obnoxious  roses  while  Sylvia  took  them 
from  him  one  by  one  with  aggravating 
deliberation,  until  the  whole  dozen  were 
deposited  in  the  vase  to  her  liking. 

"There  I  think  that  will  do,"  she  an- 
nounced at  last,  standing  back  to  admire 
her  artistic  handiwork. 

"  Shall  I  carry  them  into  the  library  for 
you?"  he  inquired  with  polite  resigna- 
tion. 

But  Sylvia  shook  her  head. 

"  No.  Let's  leave  them  in  the  hall. 
Don't  breathe  it  aloud,  Phil,  but  I  couldn't 
bear  'em  in  there.  The  library  belongs 


194  Sylvia's  Experiment 

just  to  us  —  the  Christmas  family.  And 
American  Beauties  —  well,  they  don't  be- 
long —  do  they? " 

She  looked  straight  up  at  him,  and  sud- 
denly he  was  ashamed  of  his  ill  humor. 

"  Just  as  you  say,"  he  told  her  cheer- 
fully. '  You're  boss  in  the  Christmas 
family.  I  say,  Syl,  it  has  been  one  glori- 
ous day,  hasn't  it?  " 

"  I  think  so,"  and  Sylvia  smiled  happily. 
"It  has  been  lovely,  hasn't  it?" 

"  Sure  thing,"  he  responded  heartily. 

And  when  they  went  back  into  the  li- 
brary minus  the  roses,  every  one  perceived 
that  the  status  quo  was  what  it  had  been 
before  the  advent  of  said  roses. 

"  And  now,"  said  Sylvia,  "  let's  have 
some  music.  Gus,  we  are  all  waiting  to 
hear  you." 

He  colored  with  pleasure,  and  rose  with 
alacrity  to  get  his  violin,  for  which,  in- 


"  Music  Hath  Charms  "  195 

deed,  he  had  himself  been  hungering. 
Sylvia  turned  the  lights  low,  and  Phil 
stirred  up  the  logs  to  a  cheerful  blaze, 
while  Gus  tuned  his  instrument  softly,  as 
one  who  listens  for  a  well-loved  voice. 

And  then  he  played,  and  the  awkward, 
shy,  silent  lad  who  had  been  with  them 
but  not  of  them  all  day,  found  voice  and 
self-expression  through  the  violin.  The 
listeners  fairly  held  their  breath  as  they 
listened,  lest  they  break  the  spell  which 
held  them  entranced.  For  Gus  was  an 
artist  —  a  born  artist.  The  technique  was 
doubtless  faulty  and  crude  and  untrained, 
but  the  soul  of  the  artist  was  in  the  music, 
and  the  violin  sang  and  laughed  and 
sobbed  at  his  will. 

"  More!  More!  "  they  begged  when  he 
would  have  stopped,  and  he  played  on, 
nothing  loath,  and  inspired  by  the  sympa- 
thy of  the  audience  he  played  as  he  had 


196  Sylvias  Experiment 

never  played  before  in  any  stolen  solitary 
moment. 

Finally  some  intuition  made  him  turn 
from  Italian  music  to  Scotch.  He  had 
once  played  at  a  Burns  evening  at  the  Set- 
tlement, and  he  knew  the  sweet  old  songs 
as  he  knew  his  own  native  ones.  They 
had  struck  a  responsive  chord  in  him  and 
he  had  played  them  often  in  those  long, 
still  evenings  when  he  had  crept  off  to  the 
office  alone  —  to  play  the  music  that  was 
in  him.  The  beauty  and  pathos  of  the 
melodies  went  shivering  from  the  strings 
of  the  violin  to  the  hearts  of  the  listeners 
and  to  the  heart  of  one  in  particular  —  a 
hard  old  Scotchman,  who  had  first  heard 
those  songs  from  his  mother's  lips  and 
had  never  forgotten  them.  They  brought 
tears  to-night  under  the  beetling  brows, 
and  when  at  last  the  lad  ended,  worn  out 
with  the  stress  of  emotional  excitement, 


"Music  Hath  Charms"  197 

the  old  man  was  the  first  to  speak.     He 
rose  and  took  the  boy's  hand  in  his. 

'  Thank  you ! "  he  said  huskily. 
"Thank  you!"  And  the  break  in  his 
voice  had  a  pathos  not  unlike  that  of  the 
violin. 

They  sang  together  then  —  the  beauti- 
ful old  Christmas  carols  whose  charm 
never  ceases  and  whose  beauty  and  sig- 
nificance still  have  power  to  call  to  the 
hearts  of  men  and  to  remind  them  that  the 
Christ  once  more  is  born. 


CHAPTER   XV 

OLD   MEMORIES 

f~l  \HE  next  day  Mr.  Mclntosh  re- 
paired to  the  city,  accompanied 
by  Gus,  as  the  former  had  busi- 
ness to  attend  to,  in  spite  of  the  allure- 
ments of  the  Christmas  family.  He  prom- 
ised, however,  to  so  arrange  matters  that 
later  in  the  week  he  could  be  away  from 
the  office  for  several  days.  Gus  was  too 
loyal  to  his  employer  to  desert  him,  and 
insisted  upon  going  to  his  work  just  as 
usual,  though  Mr.  Mclntosh  offered  him 
a  holiday,  a  faithfulness  which  scored  him 
a  high  mark  in  that  gentleman's  mental 
record  book.  He  had  always  stuck  to  his 
post  himself,  and  he  liked  others  to  do  the 

198 


Old  Memories  199 

same.  Not  that  he  meant  the  boy  to  keep 
at  his  job  too  steadily.  He  was  entitled 
to  a  real  vacation,  as  a  member  of  the 
Christmas  family.  He  would  arrange  that 
for  Gus  as  well  as  himself.  In  the  mean- 
time, they  would  both  be  able  to  make  the 
five-forty  train  from  the  city  every  night, 
and  thus  be  with  the  Christmas  family  in 
time  for  dinner.  He  was  secretly  de- 
lighted at  the  aptness  of  his  protege,  in 
fitting  into  this  new  way  of  living,  where 
clean  hands  and  tongues  were  a  matter  of 
course.  The  boy,  like  many  of  his  race, 
was  quick  in  perception  and  clever  in  imi- 
tation. Nothing  escaped  him,  and  the  art- 
ist in  him  was  keen  to  perceive  the  beauty 
of  the  life  at  Arden  Hall,  and  to  desire  to 
be  a  part  of  the  harmony  not  a  discord. 
"  He'll  do,"  Mr.  Mclntosh  reflected  with 
considerable  satisfaction  and  relief,  for  it 
had  been  rather  a  test  of  the  boy's  real 


200  Sylvia's  Experiment 

fineness,  this  mingling  with  people  in  a 
mode  of  living  utterly  foreign  to  his  pre- 
vious experience.  And  indeed  Gus  did 
do  better  and  better  as  the  days  went 
on. 

The  Professor,  too,  had  gone  to  town 
on  the  day  after  Christmas  on  a  very  im- 
portant errand  —  to  choose  the  ring.  Hav- 
ing waited  thus  long,  he  was  of  no  will 
to  wait  a  day  longer  than  necessary  for 
his  happiness.  He  had  insisted  that  Mrs. 
Abbott  write  at  once  to  her  boarders  and 
inform  them  that  they  could  be  boarders 
no  longer.  The  vexed  problem  of  what 
was  to  become  of  Mr.  Mclntosh,  though 
it  still  haunted  Mrs.  Abbott,  troubled  the 
Professor  not  a  whit.  He  still  felt  that 
Angus  could  take  care  of  himself.  If  the 
Professor  was  too  much  absorbed  in  his 
new  found  bliss  to  be  over  much  worried 
as  to  the  future  boarding-place  of  a  man 


Old  Memories  201 

who  was  reputed  almost  a  millionaire, 
it  is  perhaps  not  really  to  be  wondered 
at. 

Doctor  Tom  also  was  away  nearly  all 
that  first  day,  during  the  morning  in  his 
office  and  the  afternoon  with  Elizabeth 
at  the  hospital,  where  he  and  several  other 
doctors  examined  the  little  cripple,  and 
the  general  verdict  was  in  favor  of  an 
operation,  and  the  sooner  the  better. 

Sylvia  was  a  little  frightened  if  also  re- 
joiced at  the  decision,  for  though  Doctor 
Tom  held  out  every  hope  of  a  successful 
operation,  still  it  was  a  terrible  respon- 
sibility, and  if  anything  should  go  wrong 
—  Doctor  Tom  had  smiled  gravely  when 
she  confided  her  fears  to  him. 

"What  about  my  responsibility?"  he 
asked.  "  I  am  the  one  who  is  going  to  use 
the  knife.  Child,  do  you  suppose  we  doc- 
tors do  not  realize  the  seriousness  of  it? 


202  Sylvias  Experiment 

We  do  what  seems  best  to  us,  humanly 
speaking,  and  the  outcome  lies  with  God," 
he  finished  reverently. 

Sylvia  nodded,  a  little  abashed  by  his 
gravity.  Her  own  fears  seemed  childish 
and  selfish. 

'  Thanks  to  you,  she  isn't  at  all  afraid," 
he  added.  "  She  will  go  on  the  table  with 
the  utmost  serenity.  I  know  just  how  she 
will  smile  up  at  me  as  she  goes  under. 
Bless  her  brave  little  heart,  and  your  kind 
one.  Don't  worry.  We'll  pull  her 
through.  Never  fear,"  and  he  smiled  so 
reassuringly  that  Sylvia  was  comforted. 

"  When  will  it  be?  "  she  asked,  using  the 
vague  pronoun  to  shield  her  dread. 

"  A  week  from  Saturday,  I  think.  That 
will  give  her  a  week  to  get  ready,  and  also 
will  not  shadow  your  party  too  darkly,  as 
I  suppose  the  jig  will  be  about  up  by 
then." 


Old  Memories  203 

"  School  begins  Tuesday,"  sighed  Syl- 
via. "  We  have  to  get  back  Monday 
night." 

"  Exactly.  I  am  more  than  pleased  that 
Mrs.  Emory  will  stay  on  a  bit.  The 
youngster  will  need  a  familiar  face  about 
when  she  wakes  up,  as  she  puts  it.  By  the 
way,  I  wrote  to  Gordon  last  night,  telling 
him  the  best  possible  thing  he  could  do 
for  you  was  to  install  Mrs.  Emory  perma- 
nently here,  at  Arden  Hall." 

"  Thank  you,  Doctor  Tom.  I  wrote, 
too.  I  do  hope  he  will  consent,  and  I  am 
sure  he  will.  I  asked  him  to  cable." 

Doctor  Tom  laughed. 

"  Little  Miss  Gold  Purse,  what  would 
you  have  done  if  you  had  been  born  poor 
and  couldn't  royally  order  people  to  cable, 
so  as  to  save  your  high  and  mighty  impa- 
tience a  few  days?" 

"  Search    me,"    she    retorted    slangily. 


204  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"  Don't  tease,  Doctor  Tom.  There's  the 
dinner-bell.  Race  you  to  the  dining- 
room." 

Which  undignified  proposal  was  actu- 
ally accepted,  only  no  one  ever  knew  who 
won,  for  Chris  joined  in  the  race  and  the 
performance  ended  in  merry  confusion. 

"  Please,  'scuse  us,  Christmas  mother. 
We'll  be  very  good  now.  Won't  we,  Doc- 
tor Tom?" 

"Perfect  ladies,"  he  promised.  "I'd 
hate  to  be  put  to  bed  without  any  supper. 
Where's  Phil?" 

"  In  town.  He  went  in  to  attend  his 
Frat  banquet.  Poor  boy!  I  suspect  he 
was  glad  to  go.  We  have  been  a  hope- 
lessly feminine  family  to-day.  I  am  sure 
he  pined  for  masculinity." 

They  sat  down  to  dinner,  and  there  was 
a  pleasant  feeling  of  intimacy  renewed,  as 
if  the  little  separation  had  brought  the 


Old  Memories  205 

Christmas  family  more  closely  together 
than  ever. 

"  Bob,"  said  Mr.  Mclntosh,  "  I  heard  in 
town  to-day  that  you  were  going  bugging 
to  South  America  next  summer.  Are  you 
going  to  permit  that,  Mrs.  Abbott?" 

"  Mrs.  Abbott  doesn't  believe  all  she 
hears,  and  you  had  better  follow  her  ex- 
ample," returned  the  Professor  tranquilly. 
"  Bother  the  bugs !  We  are  going  to  Italy. 
Mary  has  always  wanted  to  go,"  he  added, 
as  if  now  what  Mary  desired  had  become 
of  paramount  importance. 

Sylvia  wondered  a  little  how  this  change 
of  plan  was  going  to  affect  Phil.  She 
knew  that  he  cherished  a  secret  hope  that 
through  the  Professor  he  might  be  asked 
to  join  the  South  American  expedition  — 
the  "  buggy  trip,"  as  he  termed  it.  She 
couldn't  help  feeling  a  little  sorry,  glad 
as  she  was  for  her  dear  Christmas  moth- 


206  Sylvia's  Experiment 

er's  happiness,  that  Phil  should  be  disap- 
pointed in  his  hopes  of  the  trip  which 
meant  so  much  to  him. 

"  It  isn't  only  the  adventure  of  it,"  he 
had  told  her  once  in  a  sudden  fit  of  boyish 
confidence,  "  though,  that  appeals  to  me, 
too,  naturally.  It's  being  with  men  like 
that  with  their  big  knowledge,  their  big 
patience,  their  big  desire  to  know  more  at 
any  cost.  They  are  good  comrades,  too 
—  the  big  fellows  —  simple  and  straight- 
forward and  unassuming.  They  never  let 
a  chap  feel  how  small  he  is,  which  makes 
him  see  how  big  they  are."  He  had  ended 
with  a  paradox  which  had  interested  Syl- 
via and  which  she  had  turned  over  and 
over  in  her  mind  since. 

The  evening  was  a  rather  quiet  one. 
The  Christmas  family  was  a  bit  tired  after 
the  busy  day  and  the  excitement  of  yester- 
day. There  was  a  little  music  and  talk, 


Old  Memories  207 

but  it  was  still  early  when  Sylvia  rose  to 
say  good  night  to  the  family.  She  stooped 
to  kiss  Mrs.  Abbott,  and  smiled  as  the  new 
diamond  flashed  up  at  her  in  the  fire  shine. 

"Are  you  happy,  little  Christmas 
mother?  "  she  whispered. 

'  Very,  very  happy,  little  Christmas 
daughter.  The  something  nice  did  hap- 
pen after  all,  you  see,  and  you  are  a  really 
truly  fairy  godmother,  just  as  I  suspected." 

"  And  can  I  be  a  sort  of  honorary 
Christmas  father?"  inquired  the  Profes- 
sor, looking  up  with  his  quiet  smile. 

'  Indeed  you  may,"  she  smiled  back. 
'  You  see,  I  came  near  doing  a  dreadful 
thing  and  not  having  a  father  in  the  fam- 
ily at  all,  and  I  have  been  so  thankful  to 
Phil  for  averting  the  disaster.  It  would 
have  been  a  terrible  omission,  wouldn't  it, 
Christmas  mother?" 

"  It  would  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott. 


208  Sylvia's  Experiment 

As  Sylvia  started  up-stairs  she  fell  to 
thinking  a  little  about  her  own  father. 
She  had  always  thought  about  her  mother 
a  great  deal,  but  somehow  not  so  much 
about  her  father.  She  had  never  projected 
him,  as  she  had  said  to  Bess.  In  the  hall 
hung  the  portraits  of  him  and  her  mother 
painted  shortly  before  their  death,  and, 
obeying  a  sudden  impulse,  she  turned  back 
to  look  at  them  once  more.  In  front  of 
her  father's  portrait  she  paused  and  stud- 
ied the  noble  young  face.  Hitherto  the 
portrait  had  been  just  a  picture  to  her. 
To:night  it  became  a  personality  and  — 
her  father.  She  noted  the  broad  brow 
with  the  thick  dark  hair  falling  carelessly 
upon  it,  the  straight  nose  with  the  sensi- 
tive, finely  modelled  nostrils,  the  mouth, 
beautiful  but  with  strength  as  well  as 
sweetness  in  it.  The  dark  eyes  which 
smiled  serenely  into  hers,  half  dreamy, 


Old  Memories  209 

half  mirthful,  were  so  exactly  like  the  eyes 
that  met  her  every  day  from  her  mirror 
that  Sylvia  was  almost  startled  and  yet 
happy  at  the  discovery.  The  likeness 
made  him  somehow  more  her  own.  A 
great  longing  rilled  her  heart  for  this 
young  father  of  hers.  She  would  never 
have  been  lonely  if  she  had  had  him.  They 
would  have  been  comrades.  She  remem- 
bered what  her  Aunt  Nell  had  said  of  him 
once.  "  There  was  nobody  like  him,  child. 
You  will  never  know  what  you  missed,  but 
there  was  nobody  like  him."  And  Sylvia, 
studying  her  father's  face,  began  to  realize 
the  truth  of  her  aunt's  words  and  to  see 
a  little  of  what  she  had  missed. 

Suddenly  she  felt  a  hand  upon  her 
shoulder  and  turning  saw  that  Doctor 
Tom  was  beside  her. 

:<  I  was  just  —  getting  acquainted  with 
my  father,"  she  told  him  simply 


210  Sylvias  Experiment 

He  nodded  understandingly. 

"  Sylvia,  I  can  remember  him.  He  was 
the  sort  you  don't  forget,  somehow.  I 
know  he  seemed  to  me  a  sort  of  modern 
Galahad  —  sans  peur  and  sans  reproche. 
Boy  as  I  was,  I  shall  never  forget  his 
funeral.  It  seemed  that  the  whole  world 
was  mourning  him.  He  had  so  many 
friends.  They  loved  your  mother,  too,  but 
she  was  new  among  them.  They  wor- 
shipped him.  I  remember  the  things  they 
said  of  him.  They  also  were  the  sort  you 
don't  forget.  I  recall  one  old  man,  the 
pastor  who  had  known  him  boy  and  man, 
said  that  John  Arden  had  the  finest,  most 
exquisite  sense  of  honor  he  ever  knew  in 
any  man.  '  And  the  biggest,  most  gen- 
erous heart/  added  some  one  else.  It 
seemed  to  me  then,  and  it  still  seems  to 
me,  that  that  was  the  finest  tribute  a  man, 
or  a  woman  either  for  that  matter  could 


Old  Memories  211 

win.  Think  of  it,  Sylvia  —  the  truest  and 
the  kindest.  There  isn't  anything  much 
better." 

The  eyes  Sylvia  turned  to  the  young 
doctor  were  full  of  tears. 

"  The  truest  and  the  kindest,"  she  re- 
peated. "  Thank  you,  Doctor  Tom,  for 
telling  me  that.  I  shall  not  forget  either." 


CHAPTER    XVI 

MR.    MCINTOSH   IS   CONVINCED 

YLVIA,  come  here,  please.   I  want 
to  talk  to  you." 

This   from    Phil,   appearing   at 
the  nursery  door. 

"Can't  you  talk  to  me  here?"  inquired 
Sylvia,  who  was  engaged  in  building  a 
marvellous  block  house  for  Brother's  de- 
lectation. "  You  see,  I  am  busy." 

"  I  see.    Sure  I  can  if  you  think  Brother 
won't   tell.     My   communication   is   of  a 
moderately  confidential  order." 
Sylvia  laughed. 

"  Brother's  a  perfect  repository  of  se- 
crets. As  for  me,  I  am  dying  of  curiosity. 

Fire  ahead." 

212 


Mr.  Mclntosh  Is  Convinced       213 

f<  It's  about  Amidon,"  he  blurted  out  un- 
expectedly. 

"Jack  Amidon!"  Sylvia  looked  up, 
frankly  astonished.  She  knew  that  Jack 
and  Phil  were  not  especially  fond  of  each 
other,  though  classmates  and  fraternity 
brothers.  There  could  indeed  be  little  in 
common  between  the  rather  fast  son  of  a 
millionaire  and  the  sturdy  young  athlete 
whose  father  was  a  poverty  consecrated 
missionary.  The  one  bond  they  had  in 
fact  was  their  mutual  devotion  to  Sylvia 
Arden,  a  bond  which  was  quite  as  likely 
to  cause  friction  as  congeniality. 

"  Yes,"  nodded  Phil.  "  He's  in  a  pretty 
bad  way.  Everybody  likes  him,  and  every- 
body bleeds  him,  because  he  is  so  free  with 
his  money  and  such  a  jolly  good  fellow  all 
round.  And  he  keeps  drinking  with  every- 
body to  show  his  goodfellowship  and  to 
prove  he  is  not  a  snob,  and  the  result  is 


214  Sylvia's  Experiment 

he  is  going  all  to  pieces.  I  could  see  it  last 
night." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  Sylvia.  "  I  was  a 
little  afraid  of  that.  I  am  awfully  sorry, 
for  I  do  like  him  so  much.  Nobody  can 
help  it." 

''  He  is  liked  considerably  too  much  for 
his  own  good,"  Phil  retorted.  "  Don't 
misunderstand  me,  please,  Sylvia.  I'm 
not  kicking  about  his  popularity.  He  de- 
serves it  —  a  good  deal  of  it.  Part  of  it 
his  money  pays  for,  and  that  is  the  dan- 
gerous part." 

"  But  he  has  a  mother  and  sisters.  Why 
don't  they  look  after  him?" 

"  His  mother  and  sisters  are  at  Palm 
Beach,  playing  the  high-mucky-muck  in 
society.  They  are  much  too  busy  to 
bother  about  him,  and  his  father  is  too 
busy  making  money  for  the  rest  to  spend. 
A  jolly  Christmas  family  he  has.  I 


Mr.  Mclntosh  Is  Convinced       215 

don't  blame  him  for  going  to  the  bow- 
wows." 

"  You  don't  go  to  the  bow-wows  and 
your  father  and  mother  are  in  China,  and 
your  sister  in  Constantinople,"  flashed 
Sylvia. 

He  grinned  a  little  sheepishly. 

"  It  takes  money  to  pave  the  way  dog- 
ward,"  he  explained.  '  That  is  one  ad- 
vantage of  poverty.  Champagne  suppers 
are  necessarily  tabooed.  But  that  is  not 
the  real  reason  either,"  he  added  quickly. 
"  My  father  and  mother  may  be  in  China, 
but  they  care  a  lot  what  I  do,  and  say  so, 
and  Jack's  people  don't  do  either  appar- 
ently. It  makes  a  heap  of  difference,  Syl- 
via. Do  you  suppose  I  could  write  my 
mother  every  week  that  everything  was  all 
right  with  me  if  I'd  been  put  to  Uecl  every 
night  by  the  butler  or  somebody  else,  in 
a  soused  condition?  There  is  no  use  in 


216  Sylvia's  Experiment 

measuring  Amidon  and  me  with  the  same 
tape.  You  can't  do  it." 

Sylvia  knew  that  well.  Happy-go- 
lucky,  spoiled,  weak  Jack  Amidon  was  as 
far  apart  as  the  poles  from  the  manly  lad 
leaning  against  the  mantel  looking  down 
at  her  with  frank,  troubled  eyes. 

"  Well,"  she  said  at  last,  "  what  can  we 
do  about  it  ?  " 

1  We  can't  do  much  of  anything,  but  if 
I  am  not  much  mistaken  you  can  do  a 
heap." 

"How?" 

"  Ask  him  out  here." 

"Here?    To  the  Christmas  family?" 

"  Yes.  The  poor  chap  is  desperately 
lonely  since  his  mother  and  sisters  went, 
and  not  knowing  what  else  to  do  he  nat- 
urally got  into  mischief,  and  there's  the 
deuce  to  pay.  If  you  asked  him  out  here 
he  would  be  all  right.  Amidon  is  a  mighty 


Mr.  Mclntosh  Is  Convinced       217 

decent  chap  if  he's  given  half  a  chance. 
This  would  straighten  him  out  in  a  jiffy. 
What  do  you  say,  Syl?  I'm  butting  in  as 
usual,  but  —  " 

Sylvia  was  silent  a  moment  reflecting, 
as  she  sedulously  piled  blocks  upon  the 
tower  she  was  constructing.  She  was  not 
thinking  of  the  blocks  nor  yet  primarily 
of  Jack  Amidon,  but  of  Phil  Lorrimer  and 
his  big-hearted  generosity.  For  she  was 
woman  enough  to  be  aware  that  it  was 
a  generous  thing  to  do,  to  overcome  the 
boyish  antagonism  he  had  for  the  other 
lad  and  plead  his  cause  heroically,  even 
to  begging  that  he  might  be  admitted  into 
the  Christmas  family,  thus  deliberately 
foregoing  whatever  advantage  his  own 
position  held. 

And  then  Sylvia  looked  up  with  a  smile, 
and  somehow  he  knew  that  he  had  gained 
rather  than  lost  by  his  unselfishness. 


218  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"  Sure  we'll  have  him,  Phil,  and  thank 
you." 

He  colored  boyishly. 

"  Don't  thank  me.  If  the  Christmas 
family  does  half  as  much  for  Amidon  as 
it  has  for  me,  it  will  accomplish  wonders. 
Do  you  suppose  if  I  had  hung  round  town 
these  two  weeks  that  I'd  have  had  a  per- 
fectly clean  slate  myself?" 

"  Yes/'  said  Sylvia  loyally. 

But  he  shook  his  head  decidedly. 

"  I  am  not  so  hanged  certain.  I  don't 
mean  that  I  should  have  gotten  drunk 
every  night,  but  being  idle  and  lonesome 
is  the  very  devil.  Beg  pardon,  but  it's  the 
truth.  That  is  really  all  the  trouble  with 
Amidon.  Just  let  him  come  out  here  and 
he'll  be  straight  as  a  string." 

"  All  right,"  said  Sylvia.  "  You  think 
he  would  come?  " 

"  Sure  he  would  come.    He  told  me  last 


Mr.  Mclntosh  Is  Convinced       219 

night  I  was  the  luckiest  man  he  knew  to 
be  here.  He  was  verdant  with  envy.  Oh, 
he'll  come  all  right.  Just  ask  him." 

"  We  will,"  agreed  Sylvia.  "  Phil,  you 
are  a  regular  brick  —  the  corner-stone  of 
the  Christmas  family.  Brother,  isn't  that 
a  wonderful  house?  There,  that  is  the  lasf 
block." 

Brother,  who  had  been  sitting  in  a 
chubby  little  heap  at  her  elbow  hugging 
his  Teddy  and  contemplating  the  rising 
edifice,  smiled  beatifically  but  said  noth- 
ing, for  he  was  a  cherub  of  few  words. 
He  gazed  for  a  few  moments  in  rapt  ad- 
miration of  the  marvel.  Then  the  smile 
deepened,  and  he  fairly  quivered  with  the 
joy  of  the  idea  which  had  taken  possession 
of  him. 

"  Me  knock  it  over,"  he  cried  raptur- 
ously, and  forthwith  suiting  the  action  to 
the  words,  he  wrought  destruction  and 


220  Sylvia's  Experiment 

the  edifice  became  a  scattered  mass  of 
blocks. 

"Sic  semper  tyrannis"  laughed  Phil, 
swooping  up  the  destroyer  in  his  arms 
and  tossing  him  up  to  the  ceiling,  where 
he  crowed  with  delight.  Then  the  three 
went  down-stairs  together,  Brother  still 
triumphantly  striding  Phil's  broad  shoul- 
ders. 

Sylvia  was  once  more  that  day  called 
into  secret  conclave,  this  time  by  no  less 
a  person  than  the  patriarch  of  the  family 
who  had  come  out  on  an  earlier  train  than 
usual,  especially  to  consult  her  as  he  in- 
formed her.  The  two  happened  for  a  won- 
der to  have  the  library  all  to  themselves, 
as  the  family  was  scattered  about  its  re- 
spective business  or  pleasure. 

"  Granddaughter  Sylvia,"  began  Mr. 
Mclntosh,  without  further  preliminaries, 
"  if  I  give  Gus  Nichols  a  chance  to  have 


Mr.  Mclntosh  Is  Convinced       221 

music  lessons,  is  it  going  to  be  good  or 
bad  for  him?  Tell  me  that." 

"  Why,  good,"  promptly.  "  How  could 
it  be  bad?" 

''  It  might  be  bad  if  it  led  him  to  aban- 
don an  every-day  useful  career  and  get  his 
mind  set  on  being  a  musician." 

"Why?"  asked  Sylvia,  who  did  not  re- 
gard professional  musicians  as  all  inevi- 
tably children  of  darkness  as  the  old 
Scotchman  did.  Musicians,  artists,  liter- 
ary men  and  other  charming  Bohemians 
of  the  American  quarter  in  Paris  had 
flocked  to  her  aunt's  home  in  Paris,  and 
the  little  girl  Sylvia  had  seen  the  best  side 
of  them  and  their  life. 

:<  It  is  not  —  er  —  respectable  to  be  a 
musician." 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  is,"  contradicted  Sylvia 
gravely.  "  Dear  Mr.  Mclntosh,  I  am  sure 
it  is  much  more  respectable  to  be  a  good 


222  Sylvia's  Experiment 

musician  if  God  meant  you  to  be  one  than 
a  poor  business  man  with  a  secret  hanker- 
ing all  the  time  to  be  a  musician." 

"  But,"  reiterated  her  companion,  "  how 
am  I  to  know  that  he  will  be  a  good  mu- 
sician? How  do  I  know  I  am  not  simply 
putting  fool  notions  in  his  head?': 

"  I  guess  the  notion  —  fool  or  otherwise 

—  is  there  already.     You  might  as  well 
reckon  with  it.    As  for  his  being  a  musi- 
cian —  after  hearing  him  Christmas  night 

—  have  you  any  doubt  of  it?    I  haven't." 
He   nodded   understandingly,    and    she 

went  on,  seeing  her  advantage.  '  If  he 
can  play  like  that  without  lessons,  think 
what  he  could  do  if  he  had  them!  It  will 
be  the  very  best  thing  you  ever  did  in  your 
life,  Mr.  Grandpa." 

"  I  thought  so,"  he  chuckled  well 
pleased,  "  but  I  wanted  your  opinion  on 
the  subject.  I  have  a  high  regard  for  your 


Mr.  Mclntosh  Is  Convinced       223 

opinion,  Miss  Sylvia.  Very  well,  Gus  gets 
his  lessons." 

"  Is  he  going  to  keep  on  being  your 
office  boy?  " 

'''  I  suppose  so.  Why  not?  A  little 
work  won't  hurt  him  if  he  is  a  genius." 

"  No,"  agreed  Sylvia,  "  but  if  you  are 
going  to  give  him  a  musical  education, 
somebody  has  to  see  to  his  every-day  edu- 
cation. He  has  to  know  more  than  just 
music  if  he  is  going  to  be  a  great  musician. 
And  he  can't  go  to  school  and  practise 
hours  every  day  and  keep  on  being  an 
office  boy,  too." 

"  Bless  me!  I  hadn't  thought  of  that." 
Mr.  Mclntosh  was  manifestly  perturbed. 
'  What  a  wise  little  head  you  keep  under 
your  curly  top-knot,  Miss  Sylvia  Arden. 
What  shall  we  do  about  it  ? "  he  chal- 
lenged. 

Sylvia  smiled. 


224  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"  Get  a  new  office  boy." 

"  Naturally,  but  - 

"  Not  but  at  all  —  just  and.  And  you 
will  send  Gus  to  school,  like  the  dear,  thor- 
oughgoing gentleman  you  are!  Don't 
you  see  how  easy  it  is?  ': 

"  Very  easy.  But  where  would  he  stay, 
while  the  educational  hose  was  being 
turned  on?  He  can't  live  as  he  has  been 
living." 

"  Certainly  not.  He  will  go  to  board- 
ing-school, or,  better  still,  live  with  you." 

He  stared,  fairly  confounded.  This  was 
an  advance  on  the  original  proposition 
with  a  vengeance. 

"Wouldn't  you  like  that?"  inquired 
Sylvia  blandly,  as  casually  as  if  she  were 
suggesting  afternoon  tea.  His  expression 
of  what  Phil  would  have  called  "  eternal 
flabbergastedness  "  amused  her.  It  was  a 
daring  suggestion  and  she  knew  it.  But 


Mr.  Mclntosh  Is  Convinced       225 

she  was  quite  as  clever  as  Mr.  Mclntosh 
gave  her  credit  for,  and  even  a  little  clev- 
erer, and  she  had  long  since  learned  the 
value  of  striking  while  the  iron  was  hot. 

"  Bless  my  soul!  "  he  muttered.  "  Bless 
my  soul!  I  am  not  at  all  sure  I  shouldn't 
like  it.  Bless  my  soul!  I  rather  think  I 
should.  Excuse  me,  Miss  Sylvia  Arden, 
I  must  consider  this.  I  believe  I  should 
like  it.  Bless  my  soul!  I  believe  I  should." 


CHAPTER    XVII 

TWO   DECISIONS 

BY  Saturday  the  hospitable  doors  of 
the  Christmas  family  had  swung 
wide  to  admit  two  new  guests, 
Bess  Farwell  and  Jack  Amidon.  It  would 
be  hard  to  tell  which  of  the  two  was  hap- 
pier to  be  there.  Bess  had  fled  from  her 
own  extensive  family  as  soon  as  its  affec- 
tion and  her  own  had  permitted  flight,  and 
she  was  now  all  a-quiver  with  delight  at 
being  with  Sylvia  again,  and  seeing  for 
herself  how  perfectly  beautifully  the 
Christmas  family  was  turning  out.  Jack, 
looking  a  little  wan  and  heavy-eyed  after 
a  too  swift  vacation  pace,  was  pathetically 
grateful  to  be  at  Arden  Hall,  and  pro- 

226 


Two  Decisions  227 

ceeded  to  make  himself  beloved  by  young 
and  old,  in  part  because  it  was  his  "  nature 
to,"  and  in  part  because  he  was  wise 
enough  to  know  that  so  he  could  best 
rehabilitate  himself  in  Sylvia's  eyes,  for  he 
realized  that  in  spite  of  her  kindness  she 
did  not  forget.  He  knew  only  too  well 
how  she  scorned  weakness  of  any  sort  and 
felt  himself  silently  condemned  by  her 
clear  judgment. 

Mr.  Mclntosh  and  Gus  also  became 
"  regular  inmates,"  as  Phil  put  it.  Doc- 
tor Tom  alone  took  no  respite  from  his 
busy  every-day  career,  except  for  an  occa- 
sional sleigh-ride  or  other  brief  frolic. 
But  for  all  his  business  he  was  the  life 
of  the  party,  and  the  family  owed  much 
of  its  mirth  and  happiness  to  his  gay, 
unselfish  presence  among  them. 

On  Sunday  it  began  to  snow  and  by  the 
time  the  family  returned  from  church  the 


228  Sylvia's  Experiment 

somewhat  shattered  figures  of  Santa  and 
his  noble  reindeer  were  mere  formless 
drifts,  so  fast  and  furiously  did  the  snow 
drive  and  whirl.  All  day  the  storm  con- 
tinued and  all  night,  to  the  especial  satis- 
faction of  Bess,  who  kept  congratulating 
herself  that  she  had  arrived  in  season  for 
this,  which  seemed  to  her  city-bred  soul 
the  best  possible  entertainment,  arranged 
as  it  were  for  her  special  benefit.  She 
went  about  quoting  "  Snowbound,"  when- 
ever she  could  find  any  one  to  listen  to  her 
"  ravings,"  as  Phil  dubbed  them.  But 
though  the  others  pretended  to  make  fun 
of  her  raptures  they  all  enjoyed  that 
storm.  It  seemed  to  bar  out  all  the  rest 
of  the  world  and  make  the  Christmas  fam- 
ily more  truly  one  with  itself.  And  the 
pure  beauty  of  the  still,  white  world  to 
which  they  awakened  on  Monday  morn- 
ing was  enough  to  enrapture  any  one. 


Two  Decisions  229 

The  boys,  and  Sylvia  and  Bess,  too,  dug 
paths  and  frolicked  in  the  drifts  and  pelted 
each  other  with  soft  snow  and  generally 
behaved  as  if  they  were  about  Marianna's 
age,  only  with  immeasurably  less  dignity 
in  their  manner  than  that  possessed  by  the 
demure  little  lady.  Brother  created  a 
sensation  by  interring  his  Teddy  in  a 
snowy  grave,  and  when  he  wished  to  bring 
his  treasure  back  to  life  was  unable  to  find 
the  spot.  He  sent  up  a  piercing  wail  on 
discovering  this  dire  calamity,  and  every 
one  flew  to  the  rescue,  and  after  much 
reconnoitering  poor  Teddy  was  at  last  ex- 
humed and  restored  to  the  embrace  of  his 
owner. 

The  snow  was  too  deep  for  Elizabeth 
to  venture  out  in,  but  she  watched  the  gay 
frolics  from  the  window  or  happily 
crooned  her  dollies  to  sleep,  no  small  task, 
by  the  way,  for  her  family  was  very  ex- 


230  Sylvias  Experiment 

tensive  since  Christmas  morning  and  her 
conscientious  care  of  them  all  consumed 
considerable  time,  as  every  young  mother 
will  understand.  Elizabeth  was  very 
happy  these  days,  not  only  in  her  present 
content  but  in  her  dreams  of  a  happiness 
still  greater  when  she  should  be  made 
straight.  On  Saturday,  Doctor  Tom  had 
promised  that  they  would  put  her  to  sleep. 
She  was  not  at  all  afraid.  She  knew  Doc- 
tor Tom  would  take  care  of  her  and  make 
her  well  again  —  well  and  strong  and 
straight  like  Marianna. 

In  the  afternoon  the  youngsters  rioted 
indoors  instead  of  out,  until  Aunt  Mandy 
declared  that  if  she  wasn't  "  plum  crazy 
it  was  'cause  the  good  Lord  had  presarved 
her  from  affliction."  They  made  molasses 
candy  in  the  kitchen.  They  unearthed  an 
old  game  of  battledore,  which  they  played 
vigorously  and  vociferously  in  the  hall.  In 


Two  Decisions  231 

due  time  the  invading  horde  reached  the 
library,  but  the  Christmas  mother  looked 
up  so  plaintively  and  deprecatingly  that 
they  took  pity  on  her  and  calmed  their 
exuberant  spirits  a  little  out  of  considera- 
tion for  her.  It  was  only  an  intermission, 
however,  and  it  was  only  an  open  question 
when  and  how  the  throttled  energies  of 
the  younger  members  of  the  family  would 
burst  their  bonds  again,  in  the  form  of 
some  more  violent  explosion.  When  Doc- 
tor Tom  arrived  they  surrounded  him,  de- 
manding what  they  should  do  next,  for 
the  evening's  entertainment. 

"  Do?  Why,  you  are  going  snow-shoe- 
ing. Didn't  you  know  that?  How  igno- 
rant !  "  pityingly. 

And  snow-shoeing  they  went,  immedi- 
ately after  dinner:  Mrs.  Emory,  Sylvia, 
Bess,  Doctor  Tom,  Phil,  Jack,  Gus  and  an- 
other boy  from  the  neighborhood,  whom 


232  Sylvia's  Experiment 

the  doctor  had  thoughtfully  provided  to 
keep  Gus  company  and  make  an  even 
number. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  the  elders 
were  secretly  relieved  when  the  merry 
troop  were  safely  out  of  the  house  and  the 
children  in  bed.  A  Christmas  family  is 
thoroughly  delightful,  but  there  are  mo- 
ments when  an  interim  of  calm  can  be 
appreciated. 

"  Mrs.  Abbott  and  Bob,"  announced  Mr. 
Mclntosh  when  they  were  seated  quietly 
about  the  library  table,  "  I  have  decided 
to  adopt  Gus  Nichols.  He  is  all  alone  in 
the  world  and  so  am  I.  Sylvia  thinks 
we  shall  like  it,  and  I  rather  think 
we  shall.  Anyway,  we  are  going  to  try 
it." 

They  congratulated  him  warmly  and 
approved  his  decision. 

"  He  is  a  very  fortunate  boy,"  said  Mrs. 


Two  Decisions  233 

Abbott.  :<  It  is  very,  very  good  of  you, 
Mr.  Mclntosh." 

He  sniffed,  though  his  eyes  beamed  at 
the  praise. 

:'  Like  Sylvia,  I  disclaim  any  goodness 
in  the  matter.  I  am  going  to  do  it  because 
I  want  to  —  just  as  she  collected  her 
Christmas  family.  It's  pure  selfishness 
on  both  our  parts." 

"  A  very  pleasant  kind  of  selfishness  for 
the  other  parties,"  smiled  Mrs.  Abbott. 
Then  her  eyes  sought  the  Professor's  a 
bit  wistfully.  "  Robert,  shall  we  ask  Mr. 
Mclntosh,  just  the  same?  "  she  questioned. 

He  smiled  back,  understanding  the 
pleading  in  her  eyes. 

"Why  not?"  he  counter-questioned. 
"  It  will  be  all  the  better  to  my  thinking, 
under  the  circumstances." 

Mrs.  Abbott  turned,  evidently  well 
pleased,  to  Mr.  Mclntosh. 


234  Sylvias  Experiment 

"  Robert  and  I  have  been  hoping  you 
would  make  your  home  with  us,"  she  said. 
"Will  you?" 

Mr.  Mclntosh  had  not  expected  this. 
He  was  surprised  and  touched  —  ridicu- 
lously touched  by  the  considerate  kindness 
and  evident  sincerity  of  the  invitation. 

"You  are  sure  you  want  me?  I  am  a 
crotchety  old  Scotchman,  remember,"  he 
warned  with  unusual  humility. 

"  We  do  want  you,"  she  assured  him 
warmly. 

"And  the  boy?"  he  questioned. 
"  Somehow  I  have  set  my  heart  on  the 
boy." 

"  We  shall  be  doubly  glad  of  him.  Shall 
we  not,  Robert?  " 

"We  shall,  indeed.  He  will  keep  us 
young." 

"And  we  shall  love  his  music,"  added 
Mrs.  Abbott. 


Two  Decisions  235 

There  was  an  unusual  softness  in  the 
old  Scotchman's  keen  eyes  as  he  held  out 
his  hand  to  the  "  born  mother."  He 
guessed  a  little  of  what  this  arrangement 
would  mean  not  only  to  himself  but  to 
Gus,  who  needed  a  home  with  a  gentle- 
woman in  it  even  more  than  he  himself 
did. 

"  Mrs.  Abbott,"  he  told  her  gravely,  as 
he  pumped  her  hand  energetically  up  and 
down.  "  You  are  a  very  good  woman. 
You  will  make  three  lonely  male  creatures 
happy  and  comfortable,  which  is  a  great 
deal  for  one  woman  to  do.  Thank  you." 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

CONFIDENCES 

IT  had  thawed  a  little  during  the  day 
and  then  frozen  at  sun-down,  conse- 
quently the  snow  was  in  perfect  con- 
dition for  snow-shoes.  There  was  a  moon, 
too,  which  added  to  the  perfection  of  the 
situation.  The  wide,  untracked  meadow 
was  all  an  unbroken  space  of  pure,  daz- 
zling whiteness.  The  air  was  just  frosty 
enough  to  be  exhilarating,  and  the  spirits 
of  the  party  were  at  their  best,  so  the  eve- 
ning promised  to  be  a  huge  success. 

The  two  younger  lads  forged  ahead, 
blundering  along  like  young  buffalo,  for 
neither  was  an  expert  snow-shoeist,  al- 
though Gus  had  practised  assiduously 

236 


Confidences  237 

since  his  first  attempt  on  Christmas  day. 
Bess,  too,  was  a  novice,  and  Phil  good- 
naturedly  fell  back  with  her,  to  render  in- 
struction and  assistance,  while  the  others 
naturally  divided  in  couples,  with  Sylvia 
and  Jack  ahead. 

Mrs.  Emory  smiled  as  Sylvia's  merry 
laugh  drifted  back  to  them. 

"  What  a  child  she  is!  "  she  said  to  Doc- 
tor Tom.  "  I  wish  we  could  keep  her  like 
this." 

"  Kittens  will  grow  into  cats,"  he  smiled 
back.  "  It's  the  way  of  the  world.  Don't 
worry,  though.  Sylvia  will  be  Sylvia  to 
the  end  of  the  chapter.  Years  won't  mat- 
ter much  ever  with  her." 

"  Perhaps  not,  but  I  hate  to  think  of 
anything  that  isn't  happy  touching  her. 
She  is  just  made  for  happiness,  somehow." 

"  She  will  make  her  own  happiness  any- 
where, I  fancy,  and  be  none  the  worse  for 


238  Sylvia's  Experiment 

having  to  sometime.  Surely,  little  lady, 
you  are  too  wise  to  want  to  keep  her 
packed  away  in  rose  petals.  She  is  too 
big  for  that  fate  —  is  Sylvia.  By  the  way, 
speaking  of  wisdom,  I  have  been  wanting 
for  days  to  consult  yours  —  to  ask  you  a 
personal  question,  if  I  may?': 

She  looked  up  at  him  a  little  startled, 
but  his  eyes  reassured  her,  and  she  nodded 
assent. 

"  It  is  altogether  irrelevant  and  more  or 
less  impertinent,"  he  warned.  '  But  it  is 
rather  an  important  question,  and  I  have 
a  notion  that  you  can  help  me  out  if  you 
will." 

"Well?"  she  interrogated,  wondering 
what  was  coming. 

"  Given  a  man  with  a  good  many  claims 
upon  him  —  claims  that  are  quite  certain 
to  keep  him  buried  in  comparative  poverty 
all  his  days  —  and  a  woman,  beautiful, 


Confidences  239 

wealthy,  talented  —  Q.  E.  D.  Has  the 
man  any  business  to  ask  the  woman  to 
marry  him?  " 

"  The  premises  are  incomplete.  I  am 
to  assume  that  the  man  loves  the 
woman?  " 

He  nodded  emphatically. 

"  That,  of  course." 

"And  the  woman?" 

"  'Tisn't  decent  to  premise  too  much  on 
that  score.  Let  us  assume  she  likes  him, 
at  least." 

"  Then  he  ought  to  give  her  a  chance  to 
decide." 

"  It  is  asking  her  to  make  a  tremendous 
sacrifice!  "  he  objected. 

"  I  do  not  think  so.  If  she  loved  him 
there  would  be  no  sacrifice.  I  remember 
once  a  dear  old  lady  said  to  me,  '  Felicia, 
don't  give  up  much  for  the  man  you  think 
you  could  live  with.  He  won't  be  worth 


240  Sylvia's  Experiment 

it  to  you.  But  when  the  man  comes  along 
that  you  think  you  cannot  live  without, 
it  doesn't  matter  what  you  have  to  give 
up,  the  scales  will  tip  in  his  direction.'  I 
did  not  understand  then.  I  do  now.  I 
believe  it  is  true.  It  was  true  for  me. 
Sydney  made  up  —  makes  up  —  for  every- 
thing else.  I  have  never  ceased  to  be 
thankful  that  he  had  the  courage  to  sep- 
arate essentials  from  non-essentials  and 
ask  me  to  share  his  poverty.  Doctor  Daly, 
I  am  telling  you  this  because  I  believe  you 
want  an  honest  opinion.  If  a  man  loves 
a  woman  and  there  is  no  actual  impedi- 
ment to  his  marriage,  the  least  he  can  do 
is  to  give  her  the  opportunity  to  accept  or 
reject  his  love,  according  as  its  worth 
seems  to  her.  If  she  cares,  poverty  is  no 
barrier;  if  she  doesn't  —  that  is  the  only 
barrier.  Love  is  the  test,  and  there  you 
have  my  answer,  Doctor  Daly." 


Confidences  241 

"  Thank  you,"  he  responded  gravely. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  and  the 
two  walked  on  quietly,  she  with  thoughts 
wrapped  in  the  past,  he,  in  the  future. 
Suddenly  she  looked  up  at  him  with  a  little 
frank,  luminous  smile. 

"  Ask  her,  Doctor  Daly,"  she  said,  with 
a  tender  laughter  in  her  eyes. 

"  So,  as  usual,  the  ostrich  only  hid  his 
head,"  he  smiled  back.  "  Thank  you,  Mrs. 
Emory,  I  think  I  will." 

"  Isn't  it  wonderfully  white  and  clean 
and  big?"  Sylvia  was  saying,  as  she  and 
Jack  reached  the  brow  of  the  hill  and 
paused  a  moment  for  breath,  looking  back 
over  the  wide,  moon-flooded  meadow  they 
had  just  traversed.  "  Oh,  I  just  hate  the 
city!  Don't  you,  Jack?"  she  turned  to 
him. 

"  No,  can't  say  I  do.  The  noise  and 
lights  and  hustle  appeal  to  me  somehow. 


242  Sylvia's  Experiment 

'Tisn't  esthetic,  I  know,  but  I  may  as  well 
own  I  like  it." 

"And  you  don't  like  this?"  in  some 
resentment. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  do.  I  like  it  very  much 
indeed,  but  I  am  a  little  afraid  of  it." 

"Afraid?"  she  puzzled.  "I  don't  un- 
derstand." 

"  No,  I  suppose  you  don't.  It  doesn't 
disapprove  of  you.  It  does  of  me.  Elec- 
tric lights  take  a  chap  as  they  find  him 
and  ask  no  questions.  The  stars  -  '  he 
finished  with  a  little  expressive  gesture. 

"  Yes,"  said  Sylvia,  quick  to  catch  his 
mood  and  respond  to  it,  "  I  understand. 
The  stars  do  ask  questions.  They  expect 
things  of  us.  They  are  something  like  a 
mother,  I  suppose,"  she  added,  reflectively, 
remembering  what  Phil  had  said  the  other 
day. 

"  Not   much   like   my   mother,"   he   re- 


Confidences  243 

torted.  "  She's  on  the  electric  light  order. 
There,  you  don't  like  that.  It  doesn't 
sound  very  chivalrous,  I'll  admit,  but  — 
My  mother  has  been  away  a  month  and 
I  have  been  honored  with  one  short  epistle 
from  her  in  that  period,  telling  me  that 
she  and  father  were  giving  me  a  check  for 
Christmas,  and  hoping  I  was  having  a 
pleasant  vacation.  That  was  all,"  he 
ended,  a  little  bitterly. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  Sylvia.  That  seemed 
about  all  there  was  to  say. 

"  You  needn't  be.  I  am  not  worth  it," 
gloomily.  "  It's  the  devil  for  mine,  and 
probably  if  I  had  been  blessed  with  the 
starriest  kind  of  a  mother,  it  would  have 
been  just  the  same.  I'm  made  that  way." 

"  That's  a  cowardly,  shiftless  point  of 
view,"  rebuked  Sylvia.  "  You  see  that 
fence  over  there.  Do  you  suppose  if  the 
wires  got  broken,  the  farmer  would  sit 


244  Sylvia's  Experiment 

down  while  the  sheep  got  away,  and  say 
'Too  bad!  But  fences  are  just  naturally 
bound  to  get  broken.  There's  no  help  for 
it.  I  might  as  well  let  the  sheep  go  now 
as  any  time  '?  " 

He  laughed,  and  looked  a  little  shame- 
faced as  the  application  of  her  homely 
metaphor  struck  in. 

'  Well,  what  am  I  going  to  do  about 
it?"  he  asked,  after  a  minute. 

"  Mend  the  fence,"  she  retorted. 
"  Come  on,  Jack,  it  is  getting  cold  here 
and  the  others  have  gone  on  ahead, 
through  the  wood." 

They  walked  on  a  few  moments  in  si- 
lence and  soon  found  themselves  in  the 
pine  forest  with  the  deep  whiteness  all 
around  them  and  the  tall  trees,  laden  with 
snow,  while  above  the  interlacing  boughs 
was  the  deep  purple  blue  sky  and  the 
stars,  which  shone  all  the  brighter  for  the 


Confidences  246 

moment,  as  the  moon  had  gone  behind  a 
cloud.  The  voices  of  the  others  sounded 
remotely  in  the  distance,  but  otherwise  all 
was  still  save  for  the  deep  chant  of  the 
wind-swayed  pines. 

The  hush,  the  purity,  the  solemnity  of 
the  winter  woods  stirred  both  young 
hearts  vaguely.  Perhaps  no  eloquent  di- 
vine could  have  preached  to  Jack  Amidon 
so  forcibly  as  this  grave  silence  of  stars 
and  trees.  Boylike  he  made  no  vows  of 
penitence  and  reform,  but  when  Sylvia 
turned  at  last  with  a  little  rapturous  sigh, 
he  nodded  comprehendingly. 

"  Guess  I'll  have  to  mend  the  fence," 
he  observed  casually,  with  a  whimsical 
twinkle  in  his  eyes.  In  spite  of  the  twinkle 
there  was  a  new  mood  of  earnestness  be- 
hind and  Sylvia  understood.  She  was  too 
wise  to  embarrass  him  with  words,  how- 
ever, and  simply  held  out  her  hand  to  him. 


246  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"  I  am  glad,  Jack,"  was  all  she  said.  "1 
thought  you  would." 

Then  they  hurried  on  to  overtake  the 
others,  and  the  moment  of  seriousness 
banished,  though  not  forgotten. 

"  Sylvia,"  said  Doctor  Tom,  "  this  is 
your  world.  How  do  you  like  it?" 

"Love  it,  don't  you?" 

"  Ardently,"  he  punned. 

Whereupon  Sylvia  invited  the  boys  to 
bury  him  in  the  snow  as  punishment  fo; 
his  verbal  offence,  but  he  retorted,  "  First 
catch  your  hare,"  and  brandished  his  arms 
so  vigorously  that  they  decided  on  discre- 
tion instead  of  valor.  All  the  way  home, 
they  sang  and  frolicked  and  jested,  and 
apparently  every  heart  was  as  light  as 
thistledown. 

When  they  finally  reached  the  Hall  they 
found  hot  cocoa  and  crisp  buttered  crack- 
ers and  delicious  hermit  cookies  and 


Confidences  247 

cheese,  set  out  on  the  kitchen  stove  and 
table,  ready  for  consumption,  "  quick  con- 
sumption," Phil  observed,  and  so  it 
proved.  And  oh,  were  they  not  the  hun- 
griest mortals?  Having  a  wholesome 
awe  of  Aunt  Mandy  and  her  immaculate 
kitchen,  however,  they  paused  long 
enough  to  bear  the  viands  into  the  din- 
ing-room, and  there  they  enjoyed  the 
merry  impromptu  feast  as  they  enjoyed 
everything  in  the  Christmas  family,  with 
all  their  might. 

"Oh,  dear,"  sighed  Bess.  "A  week 
from  to-night  we  will  be  back  at  St.  Anne's 
-hateful  old  thing!" 

"  How  disrespectful  to  the  dear  old 
lady,"  grinned  Jack.  "  She's  not  half  bad. 
I  like  her." 

:<  Perhaps  I  should  if  I  only  saw  her  at 
plays  and  recitals  or  in  the  parlor,  from 
seven  to  eight  —  once  a  week.  She  is 


248  Sylvia's  Experiment 

dreadfully  monotonous  taken  consecu- 
tively, every  day  in  the  week,  including 
Sundays." 

"  Cheer  up!  The  Prom  is  coming,"  said 
Sylvia,  and  then  suddenly  realized  that 
she  had  unwittingly  exploded  a  bomb. 
Two  pairs  of  appealing  boyish  eyes  were 
aimed  in  her  direction.  The  question  was 
as  good  as  asked,  "  Will  you  go  to  the 
Prom  with  me?"  And  alas,  there  were 
four  eyes  to  answer!  Sylvia  colored  a  lit- 
tle but  she  did  not  hesitate  in  her  decision. 
There  was  only  one  answer  to  make,  and 
she  made  it  as  swiftly  and  tactfully  as 
possible.  She  leaned  forward  as  if  to  ex- 
amine the  carnations  in  the  centre  of  the 
table.  The  flowers  were  all  white  but  one, 
a  great  crimson  one.  Deliberately  she 
drew  out  the  crimson  one  and  breathed 
its  fragrance  a  moment  before  she  tossed 
it  carelessly  to  Phil. 


Confidences  249 

"  It  did  not  belong  with  the  white  ones," 
she  said  casually.  "  You  may  have  it, 
Phil." 

"  Thank  you,"  he  answered,  with  a  lit- 
tle ring  of  satisfaction  in  his  voice.  All 
the  evening  he  had  given  Amidon  his 
chance,  but  she  had  chosen  him.  He  could 
not  help  feeling  a  bit  elated. 

Jack,  too,  understood,  and  though  cha- 
grined and  disappointed,  he  did  not  ques- 
tion the  justice  of  the  decision.  Good  old 
Lorry!  He  deserved  it.  As  for  himself 
—  he  had  to  see  to  that  fence.  And  Sylvia 
was  relieved  to  find  him  smiling  a  little 
quizzically  at  her  when  their  eyes  met. 


CHAPTER    XIX 
NEW  YEAR'S  EVE 

AFTER  Monday  Mr.  Mclntosh  and 
Gus  became  once  more  intermit- 
tent guests  at  Arden  Hall.  The 
former  was  busy  with  the  intricate  con- 
cerns of  a  big  manufactory,  the  latter  was 
occupied  in  training  an  understudy.  For 
Gus  was  to  cease  his  business  career  tem- 
porarily, and  set  about  obtaining  a  belated 
education,  musical  and  otherwise.  He 
was  to  attend  a  small  private  school  out 
in  Greendale,  going  in  to  the  city  twice  a 
week  for  violin  lessons,  from  the  best  in- 
struction obtainable  for  money.  For  Mr. 
Mclntosh  did  nothing  by  halves,  and,  hav- 
ing made  up  his  mind  that  Sylvia's  sug- 

250 


New  Year's  Eve  251 

gestion  was  a  good  one,  carried  through 
the  affair  with  a  thoroughness  that  nearly 
took  every  one's  breath  away,  especially 
the  recipient  of  his  bounty,  who  was  happy 
but  considerably  overwhelmed  by  his  sud- 
den transformation  of  universe.  Why 
any  one  should  want  to  adopt  him  was  a 
mystery,  but  he  took  the  gifts  the  gods 
provided  gratefully,  and  went  at  his  new 
tasks  as  strenuously  as  he  had  his  old  ones, 
and  offered  a  dog-like  loyalty,  fidelity  and 
affection  to  his  benefactor  which  was  a 
secret  source  of  delight  to  that  somewhat 
grim  and  taciturn  gentleman.  The  grim- 
ness  and  taciturnity  melted  frequently 
these  days,  and  Mr.  Mclntosh  went  about 
talking  about  "  my  boy,"  and  was  as  in- 
ordinately proud  of  the  whole  scheme  as 
if  he  had  invented  it  himself. 

The  next  few  days  of  the  vacation  were 
given  over  to  general  hospitality.     Tues- 


252  Sylvias  Experiment 

day  afternoon  brought  five  of  Sylvia's 
school  friends  and  as  many  lads,  friends 
or  brothers  of  the  girls  or  chums  of  Phil 
and  Jack.  Arden  Hall  saw  "  high  jinks  " 
indeed.  From  the  very  minute  of  their 
arrival  to  their  reluctant  departure  there 
was  "  something  doing." 

The  Professor,  deeming  the  better  part 
of  valor  to  be  discretion,  fled  from  the 
scene  of  revelry  on  the  pretext  of  a  sci- 
entific convention,  but  the  two  ladies  re- 
mained loyally  on  the  spot,  and  frankly 
declared  that  they  enjoyed  chaperoning 
the  gay  crowd,  and  did  it  very  well,  too, 
as  every  one  agreed,  efficiently,  but  not  too 
assiduously,  as  became  the  ideal  chape- 
rone. 

Tuesday  evening  there  was  a  sleigh- 
ride,  with  glorious  sleighing  and  a  full 
moon,  not  to  mention  the  hot  supper  and 
impromptu  dance  in  the  beautiful  old  ball- 


New  Tear's  Eve  253 

room,  where  the  lights  were  turned  out 
and  they  danced  in  the  flooding  moonlight 
to  the  strains  of  Gus  Nichols'  violin.  The 
whole  evening  was  a  safe  and  sane  sub- 
stitute, so  far  as  the  boys  were  concerned, 
for  the  usual  riotous  New  Year's  eve  fes- 
tivities in  the  city. 

The  next  day  was  the  occasion  for  spe- 
cial celebration,  being  New  Year's.  The 
morning  was  spent  in  decorating  the  di- 
ning-room and  ballroom  for  the  evening's 
gaieties,  for  there  was  to  be  a  little  dinner 
and  a  fancy  dress  ball.  In  the  afternoon 
the  boys  were  dismissed  on  a  snow-shoe- 
ing expedition,  while  the  girls,  at  Mrs. 
Abbott's  suggestion,  took  some  "  beauty 
sleep."  Evidently  the  latter  was  effica- 
cious, for  a  prettier  bevy  of  girls  could 
hardly  have  been  seen  anywhere  than  sat 
down  to  the  little  six  o'clock  dinner,  given 
for  the  guests  of  the  house  and  such  others 


254  Sylvia's  Experiment 

as  were  to  stay  over  for  the  dance.  To 
the  dance  itself  many  friends  had  been 
invited  from  Greendale  and  from  the  city. 
Describe  it?  Who  would  attempt  it?  No 
mere  print  could  do  it  justice.  And,  be- 
sides, what  would  be  the  use?  You  all 
know  the  kind  of  dance  it  was  —  the  kind 
you  describe  to  your  chum,  next  day,  as 
the  "  loveliest  party  you  ever  went  to," 
and  add  that  positively  you  had  the  best 
time  you  ever  had  in  your  life  or  ever  hope 
to  have  as  long  as  you  live.  It  was  ex- 
actly that  kind,  you  will  understand,  and 
enough  said. 

Perhaps  the  most  distinctive  feature  of 
the  evening  was  the  minuet  danced  in  the 
moonlight  by  pretty  shepherdesses  and 
Dianas  and  Cinderellas  and  Dolly  Madi- 
sons  and  gallant  Romeos  and  Sir  Walter 
Raleighs  and  George  Washingtons  and 
Bobby  Shaftos;  a  motley  but  charming 


New  Year's  Eve  255 

company  making  a  scene  not  to  be  for- 
gotten. There  was  an  enchantment  about 
that  minuet  that  cast  a  fairy  spell  upon 
participants  and  beholders,  and  it  was 
known  ever  after  as  "  Sylvia's  minuet." 
Perhaps  this  was  due  in  part  to  the  fact 
that  Sylvia,  dressed  as  her  own  great- 
grandmother  in  stiff  brocaded  satin,  with 
powdered  hair  and  cheeks  like  crimson 
roses  and  eyes  like  winter  stars,  was  the 
loveliest  lady  there,  dancing  in  the  moon- 
light with  her  handsome  cavalier,  who  was 
no  other  than  "  bonny  Prince  Charley," 
known  in  every-day  life  as  Jack  Amidon. 

And  then  the  orchestra  played  the 
"  Home,  Sweet  Home "  waltz,  and  the 
never-to-be-forgotten  New  Year's  ball 
came  to  an  end,  as  all  lovely  things  do 
sooner  or  later,  and  became  a  happy  mem- 
ory. 

Thursday  morning  there  was  a  tobog- 


256  Sylvia's  Experiment 

gan  frolic  arranged  by  Doctor  Tom  on  a 
friend's  slide.  In  the  afternoon  somebody 
discovered  that  the  snow  had  been  swept 
off  the  reservoir,  and  everybody  rushed 
off  pell-mell  to  skate.  The  skating  was 
distinctly  poor,  but  their  spirits  were  not, 
and,  after  all,  the  ice  was  the  less  impor- 
tant consideration  of  the  two. 

Impelled  still  by  the  power  of  perpetual 
motion  they  flew  home,  rosy-cheeked  and 
breathless,  to  take  the  five-thirty  train  into 
town,  where  Jack  Amidon  was  making  a 
return  in  hospitality  by  giving  a  dinner  at 
the  LaFayette  for  the  Christmas  family 
and  its  guests,  to  be  followed  by  a  box 
party  at  the  theatre.  Perhaps  the  gener- 
ous Christmas  check  could  not  have  been 
better  expended.  At  any  rate,  there  were 
no  wines  at  dinner,  and  accordingly,  as  he 
whispered  mischievously  to  Sylvia,  "  no 
breaks  in  the  fence  or  otherwise."  The 


New  Year's  Eve  257 

play  was  Sylvia's  own  "  As  You  Like  It," 
delightful  as  ever,  with  a  charming  Rosa- 
lind who  played  the  part  bewitchingly  and 
a  woodland  setting  lovely  as  one  dreams 
it,  which  is  saying  much.  Perhaps  there 
was  inspiration  in  the  presence  of  the  gay 
party  who  had  been  "  fleeting  the  time 
carelessly  "  together  in  true  Arden  fash- 
ion of  late,  and  were  quite  in  the  proper 
mood  consequently  to  enjoy  the  play. 
Anyway,  every  one  said  it  was  the  best 
performance  of  the  season,  and  certainly 
the  Christmas  family  and  their  guests 
found  it  absolutely  perfect. 

There  were  automobiles  to  take  them 
back  to  Greendale.  Jack  Amidon  was 
quite  as  thorough  as  Mr.  Mclntosh  when 
he  got  started,  and  spending  money  mag- 
nificently for  the  pleasure  of  his  friends 
was  quite  in  his  line.  The  swift  exhila- 
rating journey  home  through  the  frosty 


258  Sylvias  Experiment 

moonlit  night  at  midnight  was  a  fitting 
close  to  a  glorious  day  whose  hours 
had  sped  faster  than  Puck  on  his  magic 
girdle. 

The  next  day  the  guests  departed  re- 
gretfully enough.  Even  Bess  and  Jack 
took  a  reluctant  departure,  though  both 
had  been  invited  to  stay  over  Sunday. 
Bess  longed  to  accept,  but  her  sister  and 
the  babies  were  starting  for  Florida  on 
Saturday,  and  her  faithful  soul  impelled 
her  to  be  on  hand  for  the  last  good-bys, 
embraces  and  tears.  Not  that  the  occa- 
sion was  so  excessively  sad.  They  would 
be  back  in  a  month,  but  Bess  always  wept 
at  weddings  and  separations  on  general 
principles. 

As  for  Jack,  something  in  the  atmos- 
phere of  the  Christmas  family  stirred  a 
rather  sluggish  conscience  to  the  realiza- 
tion that  he  had  already  left  his  father  too 


New  Year's  Eve  259 

long  alone  in  the  great  solitary  house  in 
the  city.  The  doctors  had  warned  his 
family  that  Mr.  Amidon  should  not  be  left 
alone,  on  account  of  a  bad  heart,  which 
was  likely  to  cause  his  life  to  puff  out  like 
a  candle  in  a  draught  at  any  moment, 
without  warning.  For  a  while  they  had 
all  been  very  careful  of  him,  and  then,  as 
nothing  happened,  they  grew  careless  and 
almost  forgot  the  physician's  warnings. 
Mrs.  Amidon  and  her  two  daughters  had 
repaired  to  Palm  Beach  to  worship  at  the 
inner  shrine  of  society,  relying,  if  they 
considered  the  matter  at  all,  on  the  fact 
that  Jack  was  home,  which  was  all  that 
was  necessary.  But  Jack  had  hated  the 
big  lonely  house,  and  had  been  in  it  as 
little  as  possible,  heedless  as  the  rest  of 
the  welfare  of  the  quiet,  busy  man,  who 
never  complained  but  kept  on  making 
money  for  the  others  to  spend.  It  would 


260  Sylvia's  Experiment 

be  hard  to  say  just  what  set  Jack  to  think- 
ing of  his  responsibility  in  the  matter,  but 
that  he  did  think  was  attested  by  the  fact 
that  he  refused  the  invitation  for  a  longer 
sojourn  with  the  Christmas  family,  much 
as  he  desired  to  accept  it.  To  tell  the 
truth,  he  was  a  little  surprised  at  his  own 
fortitude,  for  he  was  unused  to  have  his 
will  listen  to  the  dictates  of  his  conscience. 
It  was  queer,  as  he  admitted  to  himself, 
but  he  went  home. 

They  met  at  dinner  that  night,  father 
and  son,  and  the  latter  experienced  an 
uneasy  pang  of  remorse  as  he  saw  how 
worn  and  bent  and  grey  the  other  looked, 
though  he  was  not  an  old  man. 

"  Evening,  Jack,"  remarked  his  father 
casually,  as  if  he  were  accustomed  to  see- 
ing his  son  opposite  him  at  table  every 
night.  That  was  all.  The  boy  told  him- 
self he  might  as  well  have  followed  his 


New  Year's  Eve  261 

inclinations  and  stayed  away,  for  all  the 
warmth  or  pleasure  there  was  in  the  greet- 
ing. There  was  a  pause,  during  which 
the  two  silently  consumed  their  bouillon. 

"Why  did  you  come  home?  Tired  of 
it?"  inquired  Mr.  Amidon,  at  length. 

"  No,  I  thought  you  might  be  lonesome 
without  me,"  and  the  boy  laughed  a  little 
constrainedly.  He  was  not  used  to  ma- 
king intimate  conversation  with  this  silent 
parent  of  his. 

"  It  is  a  long  time  since  any  one  has 
cared  whether  I  was  lonely,"  observed  his 
father,  methodically  breaking  off  a  frag- 
ment of  cracker. 

The  lad  colored,  feeling  rather  than 
hearing  the  reproach  in  his  father's  words, 
for  they  had  been  spoken  colorlessly 
enough. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  he  faltered.  "  I'm  afraid 
we've  been  a  selfish  lot,  Dad." 


262  Sylvias  Experiment 

'''  Isn't  this  —  well  —  rather  a  new  line 
of  thought?" 

Jack  nodded  emphatically. 

'  It  was  the  Christmas  family  that  did 
it.  I  never  understood  before.  I've  been 
a  pig." 

Soup  went  out  and  fish  came  in  before 
anything  else  was  said. 

'  You  are  looking  very  well,"  remarked 
Mr.  Amidon,  presently. 

The  boy  flushed  again,  sensitively.  He 
guessed  what  made  the  difference  in  his 
appearance.  He  had  noticed  it  himself  in 
his  mirror  with  a  mixture  of  satisfaction 
and  chagrin. 

"  I  am  feeling  well,"  he  answered.  "  I 
say,  Dad,  I'm  on  the  water-wagon,"  he 
blurted  out,  rather  unexpectedly  to  him- 
self. 

There  was  a  faint  quiver  of  the  lashes 
only  to  indicate  that  the  announcement 


New  Year's  Eve  263 

carried   with  it   any   emotion  to   the   lis- 
tener. 

"  That  is  fortunate.  I  had  been  think- 
ing I  ought  to  speak  to  you  about  that  on 
your  mother's  account." 

Jack  grinned  a  little  scornfully. 

"  She  wouldn't  care  —  or,  yes,  I  suppose 
she  wouldn't  consider  it  comme  il  faut  to 
get  drunk." 

A  ghost  of  a  smile  gleamed  for  a  mo- 
ment in  the  narrow  grey  eyes,  then  faded. 

"  My  boy,"  said  Mr.  Amidon  quietly, 
"  when  a  gentleman  discovers  the  frailties 
of  his  womankind  he  buries  them  —  in 
silence." 

"  I  know,"  Jack  acknowledged  the  mild 
rebuke.  "  I  beg  her  pardon  and  yours." 

'  It  may  make  a  difference  to  you  to 
know  that  your  resolution  pleases  me  very 
much  —  very  much  indeed,"  added  the 
man. 


264  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"  It  makes  a  heap  of  difference,"  said 
the  boy  heartily,  unconsciously  echoing 
Phil  Lorrimer.  "  Thank  you.  I  shall 
remember.  It  will  help." 

Fish  had  gone  out  and  meat  had  come 
in  and  gone  before  another  word  was 
spoken.  It  was  as  if  both  were  a  little 
alarmed  at  their  unusual  burst  of  confiden- 
tialness.  Over  the  salad  the  father  spoke 
again. 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  came  home,  sen 
—  very  glad.  It  was  lonely  eating  alone." 

The  very  simplicity  of  the  words,  the 
absence  of  all  reproach  touched  the  lad 
somehow,  but  something  rose  in  his  throat 
and  prevented  response. 

"You  had  a  pleasant  time?"  Perhaps 
the  other  suspected  the  obstruction  in  his 
son's  throat  and  desired  to  set  him  at  ease 
again  by  the  casual  inquiry. 

"  Corking !  "     And  Jack  launched  into 


New  Year's  Eve  265 

an  enthusiastic  account  of  the  doings  at 
Arden  Hall,  which  lasted  through  coffee. 
At  last  they  rose  and  the  man,  obeying 
a  sudden  impulse,  laid  both  hands  on  the 
boy's  shoulders  and  they  looked  straight 
into  each  other's  eyes  a  moment,  with  a 
new  sense  of  comradeship,  but  all  that  was 
spoken  was  Jack's  apparently  careless, 
"  Come  and  have  a  game  of  billiards, 
Dad,"  and  arm  in  arm  they  passed  out  of 
the  dining-room. 


CHAPTER    XX 

THE   CHRISTMAS   FAMILY   ADJOURNS 

WELL,"  said  Sylvia,  "  it  has  all 
been     perfectly     splendid  - 
every  minute  of  it,  only  I  do 
believe  it  is  nicest  when  we  are  all  by  our- 
selves—  just  a  Christmas  family.     What 
do  you  say,  Phil  ?  " 

"  Same  as  your  honor.  We've  had  a 
corking  time,  but  I  like  just  '  we-uns  '  best. 
By  the  way,"  looking  up  at  the  clock,  "  I 
think  I  will  go  down  and  meet  the  Pro- 
fessor. He's  corning  on  the  eight-fifteen. 
Excuse  me  please,  everybody." 

He  had  hardly  gone  before  Doctor  Tom 
came  in.  Doctor  Tom  was  always  cheer- 


266 


The  Christmas  Family  Adjourns    267 

ful,  but  to-night  he  fairly  radiated  hap- 
piness. It  almost  struck  sparks,  as  Sylvia 
told  him. 

'  Whatever  does  ail  you,  Doctor  Tom?  " 
she  demanded.  "  Is  it  getting  rid  of  the 
house-party  or  what?" 

''  It's  what.  Young  woman,  do  you  be- 
hold this  piece  of  paper?"  He  waved  a 
yellow  telegram  before  her  eyes.  "  Do 
you  know  what  is  on  it?  Just  one  word. 
But  it's  enough  to  make  any  man  look  fit 
to  bust.  What's  the  word?  You  have 
three  guesses." 

"  One  word!  I  can't  think  of  anything 
that  could  make  you  so  happy  in  just  one 
word,"  she  puzzled. 

"  I  can,"  smiled  Mrs.  Emory. 

"  What?  "  demanded  Sylvia. 

"  '  Yes/  "  said  Mrs.  Emory. 

"What!"  repeated  Sylvia,  interjection- 
ally  this  time. 


268  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"Right,"  agreed  Doctor  Tom.  "The 
lady  gets  the  prize." 

"  But  I  don't  understand."  Sylvia  was 
still  mystified. 

"  Stupid !  I  am  engaged  to  the  sweetest, 
dearest,  cleverest,  blessedest,  beautifullest 
girl  in  the  world.  That  is  what  this 
means,"  brandishing  the  telegram  again. 

"Doctor   Tom!     Who    is    she?     Why 
didn't  you   tell   me  you  were  in   love?' 
reproachfully. 

"  One  of  those  things  better  left  unsaid 
until  one  is  in  a  position  to  shout  it  — 
except  in  the  ear  of  one's  confidential  ad- 
viser," he  added,  with  a  smile  at  Felicia. 
"  She  is  Lois  Garth  Adams.  Do  you  won- 
der I  hesitated  until  I  was  almost  lost 
before  I  trumped  up  courage  to  ask  her?  " 

"  The  one  who  writes  those  adorable 
stories  for  the  gilt-edged  magazines?'1 

"  The  same,  only  she  is  infinitely  more 


The  Christmas  Family  Adjourns    269 

adorable  than  her  stories.  Was  I  not  a 
presumptuous  customer?  I  don't  believe 
I  should  ever  have  dared  —  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  Felicia.  Pardon  —  the  name 
slipped  out.  Please  remember  I  am  a  lit- 
tle crazy  to-night.  Anyway,  a  name  like 
yours  ought  to  be  a  mascot.  It  would 
bring  anybody  luck  and  happiness." 

"  You  don't  need  any  mascot  to  get 
yours,"  said  Sylvia.  '  You  deserve  any 
amount  of  luck  and  happiness,  and  I  hope 
you  will  get  it  —  loads  of  it  —  don't  we, 
Christmas  mother  and  Felicia?" 

And  they  assented  heartily. 

"  Hello,  Phil,"  said  the  Professor,  as  the 
boy  held  out  one  hand  for  the  suitcase 
and  extended  the  other  in  cordial  greet- 
ing. "  This  is  something  like  —  to  be  met 
^t  the  station  in  real  family  fashion.  How 
is  everything?  " 


270  Sylvia's  Experiment 

"  Fine  and  dandy.  The  attacking  legion 
has  retired  in  good  order,  and  the  fort  is 
still  in  our  possession,"  he  grinned.  "  I 
say,  Professor,  do  you  remember  the  little 
ditty  about 

" '  He  who  fights  and  runs  away 
Will  live  to  fight  another  day '  ? 

Honest  Injun,  didn't  you  run  away?  Was 
there  really  a  convention?" 

'  There  was,"  smiled  the  Professor. 
"  On  my  honor  there  was.  I  don't  mind 
admitting,  however,  that  I  did  regard  that 
convention  in  the  light  of  a  dispensation 
of  Providence." 

Phil  laughed,  and  they  swung  into  a 
pleasant  brisk  pace  up  the  snowy  hill  road. 

"  We  settled  the  South  American  expe- 
dition," observed  the  Professor,  after  a 
brief  interval  of  silence. 

"Oh!"  said  Phil  evenly,  though  his 
heart  jumped. 


The  Christmas  Family  Adjourns    271 

'  The  party  is  practically  made  up." 

"And  you  are  going?"  eagerly. 

Professor  Lane  shook  his  head,  half 
regretfully. 

"  No,  I  refused.  Hale  of  Wisconsin 
goes  in  my  place.  I  should  have  liked  to 
go.  I  meant  to.  But  the  Christmas  fam- 
ily knocked  that  all  out.  It  is  no  trip  for 
a  woman,  and  when  a  man  is  as  old  as  I 
am  he  has  to  compute  comparative  val- 
ues and  choose.  I  chose  not  to  go,  this 
time." 

The  lad  breathed  a  little  more  quickly, 
but  otherwise  there  was  no  sign  that  the 
other's  words  were  a  blow.  After  a  mo- 
ment he  spoke  quietly  but  steadily,  with 
perfect  self-control.  He  was  no  child  to 
cry  out  when  he  was  hurt. 

"  I  see.  They  must  have  been  sorry  to 
lose  you,  Professor." 

"  There  are  always  plenty  of  men  to  step 


272  Sylvia's  Experiment 

into  your  shoes,  Phil.  You  will  find  that 
out  some  day.  Nobody  is  quite  as  impor- 
tant as  he  likes  to  think  he  is.  There 
is  always  another  man  ready  and  able 
to  fill  the  place  you  meant  to  fill  your- 
self." 

"  I  suppose  so."  He  swallowed  hard. 
He  couldn't  help  wondering  who  the  chap 
was  who  was  going  to  fill  his  place  on  the 
expedition  —  his  all  but  promised  place. 

"  They  wanted  a  young  chap  to  go 
along,"  the  Professor  continued,  "  a  stu- 
dent with  brains  and  pluck  and  health 
and  enthusiasm.  They  asked  me  to  rec- 
ommend the  man.  I  said  I  knew  just  one 
who  would  fill  the  requirements  and  that 
was  Philip  Lorrimer.  And  they  said, 
'  Very  well  —  Philip  Lorrimer  it  is.'  How 
is  that,  my  boy?  " 

Phil  gasped,  overcome  for  a  moment  by 
the  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling. 


The,  Christmas  Family  Adjourns    273 

'''  But —  are  you  sure  they  want  me? 
They  don't  know  me,"  he  stammered. 

The  Professor  smiled. 

"  But  I  do,"  he  said  quietly,  "  and  they 
took  my  word  for  you,  and  they  are  not 
going  to  be  disappointed,  I  fancy.  Phil, 
my  lad,  I  do  know  you  pretty  well  —  bet- 
ter perhaps  than  you  realize.  I've  seen 
you  in  a  good  many  lights,  in  college  and 
out,  and  especially  here  in  the  Christmas 
family,  and  there  isn't  a  man  I  know  that 
I  can  more  heartily  recommend  for  the 
post.  It  will  be  a  big  thing  for  you.  I 
envy  you  a  bit.  I  wonder  just  how  old 
a  man  has  to  be  before  he  foregoes  the 
possibility  of  eating  his  cake  and  having 
it,  too,"  and  he  smiled  a  little  whimsically. 

On  Saturday  Elizabeth  was  "  put  to 
sleep."  These  were  strenuous  days  for 
Doctor  Tom.  One  day  he  was  the  hilari- 


274  Sylvias  Experiment 

ous  youngster,  irrepressibly  bubbling  over 
with  his  new  happiness,  the  next,  he  was 
a  man  with  a  stern  task  before  him  which 
sobered  and  steadied  him.  It  was*  a 
sterner  task  than  even  he  had  realized, 
but  he  won.  It  would  be  a  long  time  be- 
fore Elizabeth  would  walk  again,  but 
when  she  did  she  would  be  straight  as  she 
had  prayed  God  to  let  her  be. 

It  was  a  strange  quiet  evening  that  Sat- 
urday at  Arden  Hall.  Neither  Doctor 
Tom  nor  Mr.  Emory  left  the  hospital  that 
night,  and  it  was  Sylvia  who  put  the  chil- 
dren to  bed  and  forced  herself  to  tell  them 
the  usual  good-night  story.  Later  she  and 
Gus  played  a  little,  but  to-night  the  notes 
blurred,  and  the  music  Elizabeth  loved 
was  almost  unendurable.  At  last  came  a 
cheerful  telephone  message  from  the  doc- 
tor. "  Everything  all  right.  Go  to  bed 
and  sleep,  like  a  good  girl,  and  don't 


The  Christmas  Family  Adjourns    275 

worry.  I  will  call  you  if  anything  goes 
wrong,  but  it  won't."  And  it  didn't.  Eliz- 
abeth rallied  wonderfully  from  the  anes- 
thetic, and  was  able  to  see  Sylvia  for 
a  few  moments  on  Sunday  afternoon, 
though  she  could  only  lie  and  smile  hap- 
pily up  at  her  beloved  friend,  through 
whom  she  was  being  made  "  straight  like 
Marianna." 

By  Monday  things  were  progressing 
even  more  favorably,  and,  to  add  to  the 
general  satisfaction,  a  cable  message  ar- 
rived from  Mr.  Gordon,  seconding  Sylvia's 
request  and  Doctor  Tom's  suggestion,  to 
ask  Felicia  Emory  to  keep  Arden  Hall 
open  for  its  young  mistress. 

In  spite  of  her  delight  at  this  piece  of 
good  news  and  joy  at  Elizabeth's  fair  pros- 
pects of  satisfactory  recovery,  Sylvia  could 
not  help  feeling  rather  sober  at  luncheon. 
The  Christmas  family  was  about  to  dis- 


276  Sylvias  Experiment 

solve,  and  the  knowledge  was  almost  un- 
bearable. It  had  all  been  so  perfectly 
lovely.  Why  must  it  end? 

"  Cheer  up,  lassie!  "  said  Mr.  Mclntosh, 
who  had  made  a  special  effort  to  come  out 
for  this  the  last  meal  which  the  Christmas 
family  were  to  have  together.  "  There  is 
hope  yet.  The  Christmas  family  isn't  go- 
ing to  vanish  into  non-existence.  It  is 
merely  temporarily  disbanding,  or,  rather, 
adjourning.  Gus  and  I  are  coming  to  the 
Hall  just  as  often  as  we  are  invited.  As 
for  next  summer,  when  these  giddy  globe- 
trotters desert  us,  we  shall  come  whether 
we  are  invited  or  not." 

"  Do,"  begged  Sylvia,  smiling  through 
her  gloom.  "  The  Professor  and  Mrs.  Ab- 
bott will  be  gone  and  Phil,  but  there  will 
be  you  and  Gus  and  Felicia  and  the  chil- 
dren, and  we  are  going  to  keep  Elizabeth 
—  bless  her.  And  Doctor  Tom  will  be 


The  Christmas  Family  Adjourns    277 

near,  and  the  house  will  never,  never  be 
shut  up  again  as  long  as  I  live.  It  is  going 
to  be  a  home,  isn't  it,  Felicia?  Oh,  every- 
thing is  turning  out  beautifully.  I  ought 
not  to  complain.  I  had  my  Christmas 
family  —  my  dear,  beautiful  Christmas 
family  —  and  they  were  dearer  and  beau- 
tifuller  even  than  I  imagined  them.  And 
so  many  nice  things  have  happened,  with 
you  and  Gus  made  so  comfortable  and 
happy,  and  the  Professor  and  the  Christ- 
mas mother  going  to  be  all  nicely  married 
in  the  spring.  They  are  going  to  do  it  out 
here  in  apple-blossom  time,  you  know,  and 
you  are  all  going  to  come  and  help.  Then 
it  is  so  wonderful  that  Elizabeth  is  going 
to  be  well  and  strong,  and  that  I  am  going 
to  keep  her  and  Felicia  and  Marianna  and 
Brother,  and  have  a  real  family  all  the 
time  waiting  for  me.  And,  of  course,  we 
are  all  glad  that  Phil  is  going  to  South 


278  Sylvia's  Experiment 

America,  though  we  shall  miss  him  dread- 
fully, and  —  " 

She  paused  for  breath,  and  Doctor  Tom 
humorously  took  up  the  thread  of  beati- 
tude. 

"  And  it  is  perfectly  grand  that  I  am 
going  to  be  married  some  time.  Come 
to  count  up,  we  each  have  a  special  bless- 
ing emanating  from  the  Christmas  family 
and  its  founder.  I  propose  a  toast  to  Miss 
Sylvia  Arden  —  may  she  go  on  carrying 
Christmas  joy  to  people  all  her  life  long, 
and  be  as  happy  as  she  makes  the  rest  of 
us,"  and,  as  he  raised  his  glass  of  water, 
the  others  heartily  followed  suit,  and 
drained  the  toast,  while  Sylvia  sat  still, 
pleased  but  a  little  overcome  by  the  unex- 
pected demonstration. 

"  Speech !    Speech !  "  cried  Phil. 

But  Sylvia  laughed  and  blushed  and 
shook  her  head. 


The.  Christmas  Family  Adjourns    279 

"  You  do  it  for  me,"  she  begged  of  the 
Professor. 

He  rose  slowly,  smiling  his  serene  smile. 

"  When  I  was  a  boy,"  he  began,  "  I  used 
to  like  to  throw  a  stone  into  the  water  so 
as  to  see  the  circles  around  it  grow  bigger 
and  bigger,  until  they  grew  so  big  that 
you  couldn't  count  them  or  see  them,  but 
they  kept  on  widening  all  the  time.  It 
occurs  to  me  that  Miss  Sylvia  Arden  is  a 
good  deal  like  that  stone." 

"  Hear!  Hear!  "  cried  Doctor  Tom  ap- 
provingly. 

"  So  she  is,"  said  Mrs.  Emory.  "  I  don't 
believe  she  or  any  of  us  will  ever  be  able 
to  count  or  see  the  circles  which  she  and 
her  beautiful  thought  of  a  Christmas  fam- 
ily have  set  in  motion." 

'''  It  wasn't  me,"  protested  Sylvia,  with 
more  warmth  than  strict  grammar.  "  It 
was  all  of  you  —  the  Christmas  mother 


280  Sylvia's  Experiment 

and  Doctor  Tom  and  you,  Felicia,  and  the 
children,  and —  Oh,  all  of  you!  It  was 
just  the  Christmas  family!"  she  ended 
inclusively. 

"  A  rising  toast  to  ourselves,  then,"  said 
Phil:  "  May  we  keep  on  adding  and  mul- 
tiplying if  we  like  but  never  be  subtracted 
or  divided.  I  give  you  —  the  Christmas 
family." 


THE    END. 


i  ••;•:•!•:•;•;•;•:•;•;•!•;•;•;•;•!•:•:•;•;•;•;•;•;•;•;•:•;•!*. •;•!•;•;•*•. •;• 


MISS   BILLY-MARRIED 

^  A  Sequel  to  "  Miss  Billy  "  and  "  Miss  Ijfe 
Billy'*  Decision" 

$y  Eleanor  H.  'Porter 

Author  of  "  Pollyanna : "  The  GLAD  Book  ( Trade  Mark\  " Crow 
Currents,"  "  The  Turn  of  the  Tide,"  etc. 

9 

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THE    ROSE    OF    ROSES 


rs.  Henry  Backus 

Author  of  "  The  Career  of  Dr.  Weaver  " 

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MISS   MADELYN   MACK, 
DETECTIVE 


rjj^     In  which  are  solved  the  mysteries 

of  "The  Purple  Thumb,"  or  "The  White 
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£y  Hugh  C.  Weir 


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painting  by  Wm.  1}an  Dresser.     Net  $  1  .  25;  carriage  paid  $  1  .  40 


No  field  of  fiction  is  more  interesting  than  that  of  a  detect- 
ive, or  professional  investigator  of  mysteries,  and  it  is  easy  to 
predict  a  popular  welcome  for  this  clever  story  of  Mr.  Weir's. 
Thereader  will  be  absorbed  in  following  the  clues  which  guided 
Madelyn  Mack,  the  unique  woman  detective,  in  the  solution  of 
the  strange  mystery  of  "  The  Purple  Thumb."  And  this  is 
only  one  of  her  remarkable  cases  in  a  continuous  series  of 
adventures  which  constitute  a  tale  of  swift  and  dramatic  action. 
Clever  in  plot  and  effective  in  style,  the  author  has  seized  on 
some  of  the  most  sensational  features  of  modern  life,  and  the 
result  is  a  detective  novel  that  gets  away  from  the  beaten  track 
of  mystery  stories  in  the  first  page  and  never  returns  to  it. 


PLANTATION   STORIES  OF 
OLD  LOUISIANA 

ndreas  Wilkinson 


I2mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull 
&Cet  $2. 00;  carriage  paid  $2.20 


Primarily,  these  nature  and  animal  stories  are  for  the  chil- 
dren's hour,  but  their  underlying  philosophy  and  humor  will 
charm  every  member  of  the  household  from  the  smallest  toddler 
to  the  old  folks.  In  Old  Jason,  the  author  has  created  a 
character  who  will  rival  the  justly  famed  Uncle  Remus.  The 
old  fellow's  legends,  related  in  the  quaint  negro  dialect  of  the 
South  of  years  ago,  are  remarkable  examples  of  a  vanishing 
folk  lore  and  are  certain  to  entertain  even  the  most  blase 
reader.  Nor  has  the  author  been  satisfied  with  having  created 
only  that  delightful  character.  He  has  included  in  his  volume 
stories  of  birds  and  animals  which  will  take  rank  with  Kipling's 
Jungle  Books ;  he  has  given  us  stories  in  the  hitherto  little 
known  Creole  dialect,  and  through  them  all  he  has  maintained 
an  attractive  interest  which  grasps  the  reader  at  the  very 
outset  and  holds  him  until  the  last  page  has  been  read. 

•%&&V8&®^^ 


Selections  from 

The  Page  Company's 

List  of  Fiction 


WORKS  OF 

ELEANOR  H.  PORTER 
POLLYANNA:  The  GLAD  Book      (170,000) 

(TRADE  MARK) 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  by  Stockton  Mulford. 

Net,  $1.25;  carriage  paid,  $1.40 

"  All  unconsciously  it  teaches  a  simple,  wholesome  lesson, 
which,  if  followed,  would  quickly  transform  this  old  world  as  a 
place  to  live  in."  —  Ex-Postmaster  General  John  Wanamaker. 

MISS    BILLY      (9th  Printing) 

Cloth  decorative.  With  a  frontispiece  in  full  color  from  a 
painting  by  G.  Tyng $1.50 

"  The  story  is  delightful,  and  as  for  Billy  herself  —  she's  all 
right !  "  —  Philadelphia  Press. 

MISS  BILLY'S  DECISION     (5th  Printing) 

A  sequel  to  "  Miss  Billy." 

Cloth  decorative.  With  a  frontispiece  in  full  color  from  a 
paifating  by  Henry  W.  Moore  .  Net,  $1.25;  carriage  paid,  $1.40 

"  The  story  is  written  in  bright,  clever  style  and  has  plenty 
of  action  and  humor.  Miss  Billy  is  nice  to  know  and  so  are  her 
friends."  —  New  Haven  Times  Leader. 

CROSS  CURRENTS 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated $1.00 

"  To  one  who  enjoys  a  story  of  life  as  it  is  to-day,  with  its 

sorrows  as  well  as  its  triumphs,  this  volume  is  sure  to  appeal." 

—  Book  News  Monthly. 

THE  TURN  OF  THE  TIDE 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated $1.25 

"  A  very  beautiful  book  showing  the  influence  that  went  to 
the  developing  of  the  life  of  a  dear  little  girl  into  a  true  and  good 
woman."  —  Herald  and  Presbyter,  Cincinnati,  Ohio. 


THE   PAGE    COMPANY'S 


WORKS  OF 

L.  M.  MONTGOMERY 

ANNE  OF   GREEN   GABLES      (88ih  Printing) 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  by  M.  A.  and  W.  A.  J.  Glaus. 

$1.50 

"  In  '  Anne  of  Green  Gables '  you  will  find  the  dearest  and 
most  moving  and  delightful  child  since  the  immortal  Alice." 
—  Mark  Twain  in  a  letter  to  Francis  Wilson. 

ANNE   OF   AVONLEA    (20th  Printing) 

Cloth   decorative,   illustrated   by   George   Gibbs       .     $1.50 
"  A  book  to  lift  the  spirit  and  send  the  pessimist  into  bank- 
ruptcy! "  —  Meredith  Nicholson. 

CHRONICLES   OF  AVONLEA   (6th  Printing) 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  by  George  Gibbs. 

Net,  $1.25;  carriage  paid,  $1.40 

"  The  author  shows  a  wonderful  knowledge  of  humanity, 
great  insight  and  warm-heartedness  in  the  manner  in  which 
some  of  the  scenes  are  treated,  and  the  sympathetic  way  the 
gentle  peculiarities  of  the  characters  are  brought  out."  — 
Baltimore  Sun. 

THE    STORY   GIRL     (7th  Printing) 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  by  George  Gibbs     .        .     $1.50 
"  A  book  that  holds  one's  interest  and  keeps  a  kindly  smile 
upon  one's  lips  and  in  one's  heart  as  well."  —  Chicago  Inter- 
Ocean. 

KILMENY  OF  THE   ORCHARD    (9th  Printing) 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  by  George  Gibbs      .       .     $1.50 
"  A  story  born  in  the  heart  of  Arcadia  and  brimful  of  the 

sweet  and  simple  life  of  the  primitive  environment."  —  Boston 

Herald. 

THE   GOLDEN   ROAD     (3d  Printing) 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  by  George  Gibbs. 

Net,  $1.25;  carriage  paid,  $1.40 

In  which  it  is  proven  that  "  Life  was  a  rose-lipped  comrade 
with  purple  flowers  dripping  from  her  fingers." 

"  It  is  a  simple,  tender  tale,  touched  to  higher  notes,  now  and 
then,  by  delicate  hints  of  romance,  tragedy  and  pathos."  — 
Chicago  Record-Herald. 


LIST  OF  FICTION 


WORKS  OF 

CHARLES  G.  D.  ROBERTS 

HAUNTERS  OF  THE  SILENCES 

Cloth,  one  volume,  with  many  drawings  by  Charles  Livingston 
Bull,  four  ot  wbicU  are  in  full  color         ....      $2.00 
The  stories  in  Mr.  Roberta's  new  collection  are  the  strongest  and 
best  he  has  ever  written. 

He  has  largely  taken  for  his  subjects  those  animals  rarely  met 
•with  in  books,  whose  lives  are  spent "  In  the  Silences,"  where  they 
are  the  supreme  rulers.  Mr.  Roberts  has  written  of  them  sympa- 
thetically, as  always,  but  with  fine  regard  for  the  scientific  truth. 
"  As  a  writer  about  animals,  Mr.  Roberts  occupies  an  enviable 
place,  lie  is  the  most  literary,  as  well  as  the  most  imaginative 
and  vivid  of  all  the  nature  writers."  —  Brooklyn  Eagle. 

RED  FOX 

THE  STORY  OF  His  ADVENTUROUS  CAREER  IN  THE  RINGWAAK 
WILDS,  AND  OF  His  FINAL  TRIUMPH  OVER  THE  ENEMIES  OF 
His  KIND.  With  fifty  illustrations,  including  frontispiece  in 
color  and  cover  design  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 

Square  quarto,  cloth  decorative $2.00 

"  True  in  substance  but  fascinating  as  fiction.  It  will  interest 
old  and  young,  city-bound  and  free-footed,  those  who  know  ani- 
mals and  those  who  do  not."  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 

"  A  brilliant  chapter  in  natural  history."  —  Philadelphia  North 
American. 

THE  KINDRED  OF  THE  WILD 

A  BOOK  OF  ANIMAL  LIFE.  With  fifty-one  full-page  plates  and 
many  decorations  from  drawings  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull 

Square  quarto,  decorative  cover $2.00 

"  Is  in  many  ways  the  most  brilliant  collection  of  animal  stories 
that  has  appeared;  well  named  and  well  done."  —  John  Bur- 
roughs. 

THE  WATCHERS  OF  THE  TRAILS 

A  companion  volume  to  "  The  Kindred  of  the  WHd."    With 
forty-eight  full-page  plates  and  many  decorations  from  draw- 
ings by  Charles  Livingston  BulL 
Square  quarto,  decorative  cover     .      ,      .       .       .     $2.00 


THE  PAGE    COMPANY'S 


"  These  stories  are  exquisite  in  their  refinement,  and  yet  robust 
in  their  appreciation  of  some  of  the  rougher  phases  of  woodcraft . 
Among  the  many  writers  about  animals,  Mr.  Roberts  occupies  an 
enviable  place."  —  The  Outlook. 

"  This  is  a  book  full  of  delight.  An  additional  charm  lies  in  Mr. 
Bull's  faithful  and  graphic  illustrations,  which  in  fashion  all  their 
own  tell  the  story  of  the  wild  life,  illuminating  and  supplementing 
the  pen  pictures  of  the  author."  —  Literary  Digest. 

THE  HOUSE  IN  THE  WATER 

With  thirty  full-page  illustrations  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull 
and  Frank  Vining  Smith.  Cover  design  and  decorations  by 
Charles  Livingston  Bull. 

12mo,  cloth  decorative $1 .50 

"  Every  paragraph  is  a  splendid  picture,  suggesting  in  a  few 

words  the  appeal  of  the  vast,  illimitable  wilderness."  —  The 

Chicago  Tribune. 

THE  HEART  THAT  KNOWS 

Library  12mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover   .        .       .  $1 .50 

"  A  novel  of  singularly  effective  strength,  luminous  in  literary 

color,  rich  in  its  passionate,  yet  tender  drama." — New  York  Globe. 

EARTH'S  ENIGMAS 

A  new  edition  of  Mr.  Roberta's  first  volume  of  fiction,  pub- 
lished in  1892,  and  out  of  print  for  several  years,  with  the  addi- 
tion of  three  new  stories,  and  ten  illustrations  by  Charles 
Livingston  Bull. 

Library  12mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover   .       .       .       .      $1.50 
"  It  will  rank  high  among  collections  of  short  stories.     In 
'  Earth's  Enigmas  '  is  a  wider  range  of  subject  than  in  the  '  Kin- 
dred of  the  Wild.'  "  — Review  from  advance  sheets  of  the  illustrated 
edition  by  Tiffany  Blake  in  the  Chicago  Evening  Post. 

BARBARA  LADD 

With  four  illustrations  by  Frank  Verbeck. 
Library  12mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover  .        .  .     $1.50 

"  From  the  opening  chapter  to  the  final  page  Mr.  Roberts  lures 
us  on  by  his  rapt  devotion  to  the  changing  aspects  of  Nature  and 
by  his  keen  and  sympathetic  analysis  of  human  character."  — 
Boston  Transcript. 


LIST  OF  FICTION' 


CAMERON    OF    LOCHIEL 

Translated  from  the  French  of  Philippe  Aubert  de  Gaspe",  with 

frontispiece  in  color  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 

Library  12mo,  cloth  decorative $1.50 

"  Professor  Roberta  deserves  the  thanks  of  his  reader  for  giving 
a  wider  audience  an  opportunity  to  enjoy  this  striking  bit  01 
French  Canadian  literature."  — Brooklyn  Eagle. 

THE    PRISONER    OF    MADEMOISELLE 

With  frontispiece  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 

Library  12mo,  cloth  decorative SI. 50 

A  tale  of  Acadia,  —  a  land  which  is  the  author's  heart's  delight, 

—  of  a  valiant  young  lieutenant  and  a  winsome  maiden,  who  first 

captures  and  then  captivates. 

THE  HEART  OF  THE  ANCIENT  WOOD 

With  six  illustrations  by  James  L.  Weston. 

Library  12mo,  decorative  cover       .....      $1.50 

"  One  of  the  most  fascinating  novels  of  recent  days."  —  Boston 
Journal. 

"  A  classic  twentieth-century  romance."  —  New  York  Commer- 
cial Advertiser. 

THE    FORGE    IN    THE    FOREST 

Being  the  Narrative  of  the  Acadian  Ranger,  Jean  de  Mer, 
Seigneur  de  Briart,  and  how  he  crossed  the  Blac'c  Abbe",  and 
of  his  adventures  in  a  strange  fellowship.  Illustrated  by  Henry 
Sandham,  R.  C.  A. 

Library  12mo,  cloth  decorative  »  $1.50 

A  story  of  pure  love  and  heroic  adventure. 

BY    THE    MARSHES    OF    MINAS 

Library  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated  .  .  $1.50 
Most  of  these  romance  aix  in  the  author's  lighter  and  more 

playful  vein;   each  is  a  unit  of  absorbing  interest  and  exquisite 

workmanship. 

A   SISTER    TO    EVANGELINE 

Being  the  Story  of  Yvonne  de  Lamourie,  and  how  she  went  into 
exile  with  the  villagers  of  Grand  Pre". 

Library  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated    .       .       .       $1.50 
Swift  action,  fresh  atmosphere.  wloKsome  purity,  deep  pa?- 
gion,  and  searching  analysis  characterize  this  strong  novel. 


THE  PAGE    COMPANY'S 


WORKS  OF 

THEODORE  GOODRIDGE  ROBERTS 

THE  HARBOR  MASTER 

Cloth  decorative,   with  a  frontispiece  in  full  color  from  a 

painting   by  John   Goss.          Net,  $1.25;  carriage  paid,  $1.40 

The  salt  of  the  sea  is  in  every  chapter.    From  start  to  finish 

the  story  thrills  with  its  action  and  clear  presentation  of  life  in 

the  open."  —  Kansas  City  Star. 

RAYTON:  A  Backwoods  Mystery 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  by  John  Goss. 

Net,  $1.25;  carriage  paid,  $1.40 

"  The  story  has  plenty  of  action,  breathes  of  the  fresh  fields 
and  forests  of  New  Brunswick,  and  presents  life  in  all  its  health 
and  vigor."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

A  CAPTAIN   OF  RALEIGH'S 

Cloth  decorative,  with  a  frontispiece  in  full  color  from  a  paint- 
ing by  John  Goss       .        .  $1.50 

"  A  strong,  straightforward  tale  of  love  and  adventure,  well 
worth  reading."  —  Springfield  Union. 

A  CAVALIER  OF  VIRGINIA 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  by  Louis  D.  Gowing       .     $1.50 

"  The  action  is  always  swift  and  romantic  and  the  love  is  of 

the  kind  that  thrills  the  reader.    The  characters  are  admirably 

drawn  and  the  reader  follows  with  deep  interest  the  adventures 

of  the  two  young  people."  —  Baltimore  Sun. 

HEMMING,  THE  ADVENTURER 

Cloth  decorative,  with  six  illustrations  by  A.  G.  Larned. 

$1.50 

"  Its  ease  of  style,  its  rapidity,  its  interest  from  page  to  page, 
are  admirable;  and  it  shows  that  inimitable  power  —  the  story 
teller's  gift  of  verisimilitude."  —  The  Reader. 

BROTHERS   OF  PERIL 

Cloth  decorative,  with  four  illustrations  in  color  by  H.  C. 

Edwards $1.50 

A  tale  of  Newfoundland  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and  of  the 
now  extinct  Beothic  Indians  who  lived  there. 

"  An  original  and  absorbing  story.  A  dashing  story  with  a 
historical  turn.  There  is  no  lack  of  excitement  or  action  in  it, 
all  being  described  in  vigorous,  striking  style."  —  Boston  Tran- 
script. 


LIST  OF  FICTION 


WORKS  OF 

ROBERT  NEILSON  STEPHENS 

Each  one  volume,  library  12mo,  cloth  decorative     .       .     $1.50 

THE  FLIGHT  OF  GEORGIANA 

A  ROMANCE  OF  THE  DATS  OF  THE  YOUNG  PKETENDER.   Illus- 

trated4>y  H.  C.  Edwards. 

"  A  love-story  in  the  highest  degree,  a  dashing  story,  and  a 
remarkably  well  finished  piece  of  work."  —  Chicago  Record- 
Herald. 

THE  BRIGHT  FACE  OF  DANGER 

Being  an  account  of  some  adventures  of  Henri  de  Launay,  son 
of  the  Sieur  de  la  Tournoire.  Illustrated  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 
"  Mr.  Stephens  has  fairly  outdone  himself.  We  thank  him 

heartily.    The  story  is  nothing  if  not  spirited  and  entertaining, 

rational  and  convincing."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

THE  MYSTERY  OF  MURRAY  DAVENPORT 

(40th  thousand.) 

"  This  is  easily  the  best  thing  that  Mr.  Stephens  has  yet  done. 
Those  familiar  with  his  other  novels  can  best  judge  the  measure 
of  this  praise,  which  is  generous."  — •  Buffalo  News. 

CAPTAIN  RAVENSHAW 

OR,  THE  MAID  OF  CHEAPSIDE.     (52d  thousand.)    A  romance 

of  Elizabethan  London.     Illustrations  by  Howard  Pyle  and 

other  artists. 

Not  since  the  absorbing  adventures  of  D'Artagnan  have  we 
had  anything  so  good  in  the  blended  vein  of  romance  and  comedy. 

"  The  story  proceeds  with  a  rapidity  which  holds  the  attention 
of  the  reader  from  the  start  to  the  finish.  The  characters  are 
well  portrayed  with  a  vividness  only  found  in  this  well-known 
author."  —  The  Waterbury  Democrat. 

"  It  is  a  work  of  fiction  well  worth  reading,  and  once  read  it  is 
not  easily  forgotten."  —  Common  Sense  Magazine,  Chicago. 

THE  CONTINENTAL  DRAGOON 

A  ROMANCE  OF  PHILIPSE  MANOR  HOTJSE  IN  1778.     (53d 

thousand.)    Illustrated  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 

A  stirring  romance  of  the  Revolution,  with  its  scenes  laid  on 
neutral  territory. 

"  One  of  the  most  delightful  stories  we  have  had  for  many  a 
day."  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 


8  THE    PAGE    COMPANY'S 

PHILIP  WINWOOD 

(70th  thousand.)  A  Sketch  of  the  Domestic  History  of  an 
American  Captain  in  the  War  of  Independence,  embracing 
events  that  occurred  between  and  during  the  years  1763  and 
1785  in  New  York  and  London.  Illustrated  by  E.  W.  D. 
Hamilton. 

AN  ENEMY  TO  THE  KING 

(70th  thousand.)    Illustrated  by  H.  De  M.  Young. 

An  historical  romance  of  the  sixteenth  century,  describing  the 
adventures  of  a  young  French  nobleman  at  the  court  of  Henry 
III.,  and  on  the  field  with  Henry  IV. 

THE  ROAD  TO  PARIS 

A  STORY  OF  ADVENTURE.  (35th  thousand.)  Illustrated  by 
H.  C.  Edwards. 

An  historical  romance  of  the  eighteenth  century,  being  an 
account  of  the  life  of  an  American  gentleman  adventurer. 

A  GENTLEMAN  PLAYER 

His  ADVENTURES  ON  A  SECRET  MISSION  FOR  QUEEN  ELIZA- 
BETH.    (48th  thousand.)     Illustrated  by  Frank  T.   Merrill. 
The  story  of  a  young  gentleman  who  joins  Shakespeare's 
company  of  players,  and  becomes  a  prot£g£  of  the  great  poet. 

CLEMENTINA'S  HIGHWAYMAN 

Illustrated  by  A.  Everhart. 

The  story  is  laid  in  the  mid-Georgian  period.  It  is  a  dashing, 
sparkling,  vivacious  comedy. 

TALES  FROM  BOHEMIA 

Illustrated  by  Wallace  Goldsmith. 

These  bright  and  clever  tales  deal  with  people  of  the  theatre  and 
odd  characters  in  other  walks  of  life  which  fringe  on  Bohemia. 

A  SOLDIER  OF  VALLEY  FORGE 

By  ROBERT  NEILSON  STEPHENS  AND  THEODORE  GOODRIDGB 
ROBERTS. 

With  frontispiece  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 

"  The  plot  shows  invention  and  is  developed  with  originality, 
and  there  is  incident  in  abundance."  —  Brooklyn  Times. 

THE  SWORD  OF  BUSSY 

By  ROBERT  NEILSON  STEPHENS  AND  HERMAN  NICKERSON. 

With  frontispiece  by  Edmund  H.   Garrett. 

Net,  $1.25;  carriage  paid,  $1.40 

"  The  plot  is  lively,  dashing  and  fascinating,  the  very  kind 
of  a  story  that  one  does  not  want  to  stop  reading  until  it  is 
finished."  —  Boston  Herald* 


LIST  OF  FICTION 


WORKS  OF 

LILIAN  BELL 

CAROLINA   LEE 

With  a  frontispiece  in  color  by  Dora  Wheeler  Keith. 
Library  12rno,  cloth,  decorative  cover       .  .    $1.50 

"  A  charming  portrayal  of  the  attractive  life  of  the  South, 

refreshing  us  a  breeze  that  blows  through  a  pine  forest ''  — 

Albany  Times-Union. 

HOPE    LORING 

Illustrated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 

Library  12mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover    .       .       .        .      $1.50 

"  Tall,  slender,  and  athletic,  fragile-looking,  yot  with  nerves 

and  sinews  of  steel  under  the  velvet  flesh,  frank  as  a  boy  and 

tender  and  beautiful  as  a  woman,  free  and  independent,  yet  no* 

bold  — such  is  '  Hope  Loring.'  "  —  Dorothy  Dix. 

ABROAD    WITH    THE    JIMMIES 

With  a  portrait  in  duogravure,  of  the  author. 

Library  12mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover  .        .        .      $1.50 

"  Full  of  ozone,  of  snap,  of  ginger,  of  swing  and  momentum." 

—  Chicago  Evening  Post. 

AT    HOME    WITH    THE    JARDINES 

Library  12uio,  cloth,  decorative  cover  ....  $1.50 
"  Bits  of  gay  humor,  sunny,  whimsical  philosophy,  and  keen 
indubitable  insight  into  the  less  evident  Aspects  and  workings 
of  pure  human  nature,  with  a  slender  thread  of  a  cleverly 
extraneous  love  story,  keep  the  interest  of  the  reader  fresh/'  — 
Chicago  Record-Herald. 

THE    CONCENTRATIONS    OF    BEE 

With  colored  frontispiece 

Library  12mo,  cloth,  decorative  ccver    .  $1.50 

"  One  of  the  cleverest,  women  writers  of  fiction  is  Lilian  Bell. 

She  belongs  to  the  younger  class,  old  enough  to  have  experience, 

but  not  old  enough  to  have  lost  the  saving  grace  of  enthusiasm," 

—  Los  Angeles  Express. 

THE     INTERFERENCE     OF    PATRICIA    AND    A 
BOOK    OF    GIRLS 

Witn  a  frontispiece  from  drawing  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 
Library  12mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover    .        .        .        .      $1.50 
"  Lilian  Bell  surely  understands  girls,  for  she  depicts  all  the 
variations  of  girl  nature  so  charmingly."  —  Chicago  Journal. 


THE  PAGE    COMPANY'S 


WORKS  OF 

NATHAN  GALLIZIER 

THE  SORCERESS  OF  ROME 

Cloth  decorative,  with  four  drawings  in  color  by  "  The  Kin- 

neys"    ....  $1.50 

The  love-story  of  Otto  III.,  the  boy  emperor,  and  Stephania, 
wife  of  the  Senator  Crescentius  of  Rome. 

CASTEL  DEL  MONTE 

Cloth  decorative,  with  six  drawings  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 

$1.50 
A  romance  of  the  fall  of  the  Hohenstaufen  dynasty  in  Italy. 

THE  COURT  OF  LUCIFER 

Cloth  decorative,  with  four  drawings  in  color  by  "  The  Kin- 

neys " $1.50 

An  historical  romance  woven  around  the  famous  Borgia 
family. 

THE  HILL  OF  VENUS 

Cloth  decorative,  with  four  drawings  in  color  by  Edmund  H. 
Garrett.  Net,  $1.35;  carriage  paid,  $1.50 

This  is  a  vivid  and  powerful  romance  of  the  thirteenth  century 
in  the  times  of  the  great  Ghibelline  wars. 

WORKS  OF 

HELEN  M.  WINSLOW 

THE  PLEASURING  OF  SUSAN  SMITH 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  by  Jessie  Gillespie. 

Net,  $1.00;  carriage  paid,  $1.15 

"  One  is  glad  to  recommend  this  book  to  folk  who  care  for 
romance,  humor  and  good  sense,  simplicity  and  brevity  as 
quite  the  sort  of  reading  they  are  sure  to  like  by  way  of  enter- 
tainment." —  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

PEGGY  AT  SPINSTER  FARM 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  by  Mary  G.  Huntsman  .      $1.50 

"Very  alluring  is  the  picture  she  draws  of  the  old-fashioned 

house,  the  splendid  old  trees,  the  pleasant  walks,  the  gorgeous 

sunsets,  and  —  or  it  would  not  be  Helen  Winslow  —  the  cats." 

—  The  Boston  Transcript. 


LIST  OF  FICTION-  II 

WORKS  OF 

GABRIELE  D'ANNUNZIO 

Signer  d'Annunzio  is  known  throughout  the  woild  as  a  poet 
and  a  dramatist,  but  above  all  as  a  novelist,  for  it  is  in  his  novels 
that  he  is  at  his  best,  in  poetic  thought  and  graceful  expression 
he  has  few  equals  among  the  writers  of  the  day. 

He  is  engaged  on  a  most  ambitious  work  —  nothing  less  than 
the  writing  of  nine  novels  which  cover  the  \\hole  field  of  human 
sentiment.  This  work  he  has  divided  into  three  trilogies,  and 
five  of  the  nine  books  have  been  published.  It  is  to  be  regretted 
that  other  labors  have  interrupted  the  completion  of  the  series. 

"  This  book  is  realistic.  Some  say  that  it  is  brutally  so. 
But  the  realism  is  that  of  Flaubert,  and  not  of  Zola.  rlhere 
is  no  plain  speaking  for  the  sake  of  plain  speaking.  Every 
detail  is  justified  in  the  fact  that  it  illuminates  either  the  motives 
or  the  actions  of  the  man  and  woman  who  here  stand  revealed. 
It  is  deadly  true.  The  author  holds  the  mirror  up  to  nature, 
and  the  reader,  as  he  sees  his  own  experiences  duplicated  in 
passage  after  passage,  has  something  of  the  same  sensation  as 
all  of  us  know  on  the  first  reading  of  George  Meredith's  '  Ego- 
ist.' Reading  these  pages  is  like  being  out  in  the  country  on 
a  dark  night  in  a  storm.  Suddenly  a  flash  of  lightning  comes 
and  every  detail  of  your  surroundings  is  revealed."  —  Review 
of  "  The  Triumph  of  Death  "  in  the  New  York  Evening  Sun. 

The  volumes  published  are  as  follows.  Each  1  vol.,  library 
12mo,  cloth $1.50 

* 
THE  ROMANCES  OF  THE  ROSE 

THE   CHILD    OF   PLEASURE  (!L  PIACERE). 

THE    INTRUDER  (L'INNOCENTE). 

THE  TRIUMPH   OF    DEATH    (!L    TRIONFO    DELLA 

MORTE). 

J* 
THE    ROMANCES   OF    THE   LILY 

THE   MAIDENS     OF    THE   ROCKS    (LE    VERGINI 

DELLE   ROCCE). 

ji 

THE  ROMANCES  OF  THE  POMEGRANATE 
THE  FLAME   OF  LIFE  (It  Fuoco). 


M  THE  PAGE    COMPANY'S 

WORKS  OF 

EMMA  RAYNER 

THE  DILEMMA   OF  ENGELTIE 

Cloth  decorative,  with  frontispiece  in  full  color  from  a  paint- 
ing by  George  Gibbs $1 . 50 

"  The  story  is  one  of  unusual  excellence  both  in  the  con- 
ception and  in  the  development  of  the  novel  plot."  —  Chicago 
Tribune. 

"  A  delightful  romance  of  '  little  olde  New  York.'  A  rol- 
licking tale  of  Dutch  fun,  pathos,  and  love."  —  Boston  Globe. 

FREE  TO   SERVE 

The  novel  that  made  the  author  famous. 

Cloth    decoratiye,    with    frontispiece    in    full    color    from   a 

painting  by  '^jjswrge  Gibbs $1 . 50 

To  the  chai.jfof  a  story  well  conceived  and  cleverly  told  is 
added  the  intel£»  of  characters  that  until  now  have  been  un- 
usual in  presen$wRy  fiction."  —  New  York  Press. 

"  In  '  Free  to  Serve  '  we  have  a  book  that  rises  from  out  of 
the  dull  monotony  of  mediocrity  and  amply  deserves  considera- 
tion." —  The  Philadelphia  American. 

WORKS  OF 

STEPHEN  CONRAD 

THE   SECOND  MRS.   JIM 

With  a  frontispiece  by  Ernest  Fosbery. 

Large  16mo $1.00* 

' '  The  Second  Mrs.  Jim  '  is  worth  as  many  Mrs.  Wiggses 
as  could  be  crowded  into  the  Cabbage  Patch.  The  racy  humor 
and  cheerfulness  and  wisdom  of  the  book  make  it  wholly  de- 
lightful." —  Philadelphia  Press. 

MRS.  JIM  AND  MRS.   JIMMIE 

With  a  frontispiece  in  colors  by  Arthur  W.  Brown. 

12mo $1.50 

This  book  is  in  a  sense  a  sequel  to  "  The  Second  Mrs.  Jim," 
since  it  gives  further  glimpses  of  that  delightful  stepmother 
and  her  philosophy. 

"  Plenty  of  fun  and  humor  in  this  book.  Plenty  of  simple 
pathos  and  quietly  keen  depiction  of  human  nature  afford 
contrast,  and  every  chapter  is  worth  reading.  It  is  a  very 
human  account  of  life  in  a  small  country  town,  and  the  work 
should  be  commended  for  those  sterling  qualities  of  heart  and 
naturalness  so  endearing  to  many."  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 


LIST  OF  FICTION  13 

WORKS  OF 

NORVAL  RICHARDSON 

THE  LEAD   OF  HONOUR 

Cloth  decorative,   with  frontispiece  in  color  by   Frank  T. 

Merrill $1.50 

"It  is  rarely  that  a  love  story  is  written  in  these  days  that 
has  in  it  so  much  of  fine  and  lofty  sentiment,  of  so  high  ideals 
and  so  absorbing  in  its  romance  that  the  reader  for  the  time  is 
lifted  out  of  himself."  —  Springfield  Union. 

GEORGE  THORNE 

Cloth  decorative,  with  frontispiece  in  color  by  John  Goss  $1.50 
"  The  author  has  made  a  strong  story  which  embodies  a  most 

interesting  study  of  the  influences  of  physical  conditions  upon 

the  mind."  —  New  York  Sun. 

THE  HONEY  POT 

Cloth  decorative,  with  frontispiece  in  color  and  numerous 
decorations  by  Jessie  Gillespie.  Net,  $1.00;  carriage  paid,  $1.15 
"  The  tale  is  amusing,  bright,  full  of  local  color  and  is  well 
written."  —  New  York  Sun. 

WORKS  OF 

CHARLES  FELTON  PIDGIN 

THE  CHRONICLES  OF  QUINCY  ADAMS  SAWYER, 
DETECTIVE 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated.     Net,  $1.25;  carriage  paid,  $1.40 
"The  author  is  to  be  complimented  not  only  upon  the  clev- 
erness of  the  plots,  but  upon  the  skill  with  which   he  constructs 
and  clears  away  mysteries."  —  Boston  Globe. 

THE  FURTHER  ADVENTURES  OF  QUINCY 
ADAMS  SAWYER  AND  MASON'S  CORNER 
FOLKS 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated .  by  Henry  Roth      .       .      $1.50 
"  The  book  is  intensely  human,  bright,  witty,  hopeful,  kindly, 
and  interesting."  —  Christian  Endeavor  World. 

STEPHEN  HOLTON 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill      .      $1.50 
England's  common  life  seems  a  favorite  material  for 
this  sterling  author,  who,  in  this  particular  instance,  mixes  his 
colors  with  masterly  skill."  —  Boslon  Globe. 


I4  THE  PAGE    COMPANY'S 


BAHAMA  BILL 

With  frontispiece  in  color  by  H.  R.  Reuterdahl. 

Library  12mo $1.50 

"As  for  Bahama  Bill,  the  reader  will  like  him  whether  he 
will  or  no;    he  dominates  the  book,  unscrupulous  though  he 
may  be.    Nevertheless  thure  is  not  a  mean  streak  in  him.    We 
shall  be  tempted  to  read   '  Bahama  Bill '  several  times."  - 
Springfield  Union. 

THE  BLACK  BARQUE 

With  five  illustrations  by  W.  Herbert  Dunton. 

Library  12mo $1.50 

"  Captain  Hains,  the  master  of  the  straight  sea  story,  has 
built  a  picture  that  teems  with  the  sea  life  of  the  time,  striking 
in  its  splendid  details.  The  '  Black  Barque  '  is  a  rattling  tale 
of  the  sea,  as  rough  as  a  storm-lashed  shoal,  as  brutal  as  the 
sea  itself,  with  a  splendid  swing,  a  range  of  rough  characters, 
and  adventures  on  every  page."  —  Current  Literature. 

"  One  of  the  best  sea  stories  ever  published."  —  Chicago 
Tribune. 

THE  WINDJAMMERS 

Library  12mo,  illustrated $1.50 

"  A  collection  of  short  sea  stories  unmatched  for  interest, 
ranging  from  the  tragic  to  the  humorous,  and  including  some 
accounts  of  the  weird,  unexplainable  happenings  which  befall 
all  sailors.  Told  with  keen  appreciation,  in  which  the  reader 
will  share."  —  N.  Y.  Sun. 

"  This  is  an  absorbing  story,  with  the  full  flavor  of  the  sea, 
and  will  be  enjoyed  by  all  readers."  —  N.  Y.  World. 

THE  VOYAGE   OF  THE  ARROW 

Library  12mo,  illustrated         .        .        .  -     .   _    .       .     $1 . 50 

"  A  capital  story,  full  of  sensation  and  excitement,  and  a 

rollicking  sea  story  of  the  good  old-fashioned  sort.    The  reader 

who  begins  this  exciting  voyage  will  sail  on  at  the  rate  of  twelve 

miles  an  hour  until  it  is  finished."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

"Bold  in  plot  and  told  with  spirit.  Mr.  Hains  knows  the 
sea  and  keeps  its  salt  smell  on  every  page."  —  Philadelphia 
Enquirer, 


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